Of Cherry Blossoms and Rain
by Meesch
Summary: The no longer quite so drabble-ish tales of Shunsui and Nanao. T to be safe. Because he was like the cherry blossoms, and he, too, would come back to her. Review, for the sake of my fading sanity!
1. Cherry Blossoms

It was spring, and there were cherry blossoms.

This was not unusual in itself, of course. In Soul Society, there were entire orchards dedicated to the stunning pink trees, and the bushels of gaudy pink petals they produced.

_She knew the location of every cherry tree within a five mile radius from her office, and every orchard within the Seireitei. She needed to, if she was to get any paperwork past her lazy captain._

The cherry blossoms cloaked everything: a thousand shades of pink, floating in the wind. The air seemed to swim with them, so thick you could inhale not only the scent of the cherry blossoms, but the texture and taste and quiet rustling sound. It was an assault upon the body, a siege to the senses: who could work while such beauty blew by on the quiet spring breeze? Who could help but stop and watch, filled with wonder (and a strange sense of paranoia, if the passer-by had been unfortunate to spar with Kuchiki-Taichou recently)?

Nanao knew better then to let something as silly as a few flower petals distract her from her job, her duty. That was for people who were lazy, or irresponsible. Idiotic.

_No matter how good those people might have looked spread out of a curtain of fallen petals, haoris mingling so close with the pink that it was difficult to tell where fabric ended and nature began._

She walked a little slower than usual, held her papers a little more loosely by her side – but held nonetheless. Nanao was a vice-captain, and had a responsibility to her squad. She couldn't stop for something as normal as spring. Not when the yearly finance report was due, and this year's spending for sake was double that of training equipment and company housing. Together. She could be dazed by spring as much as anyone else, but she simply didn't have the luxury of not working. Then again, neither did Kyouraku-Taichou – it was his papers that she carried, after all - but that certainly wasn't stopping him.

Flowers were frivolous. They were distracting, disorderly, unruly. They certainly didn't do paperwork.

_They were peaceful and gentle and gorgeous, and like him in every way, if she were being completely honest with herself._

He sprawled out across the ground under a large tree – one Nanao knew to be his favourite – watching the sakuras fall. It was impossible for him to drink the sake in his hand, what with the number of flowers falling into the cup on its way to his mouth, but he was making an effort: a Captain never abandons his cause. It would set a bad example to the junior members of the division.

Or so he often said. Nanao had her own opinions about his idea of being an 'inspiring role model of a captain.' They were often summed up with a rather hefty blow from her book.

_If he would put that much effort into something worthwhile, like (pursuing her) running his division, it wouldn't be this difficult for her. _

He greeted her with the customary Nanao-chan!, but even his traditional teasing seemed a little more tranquil today. It was too beautiful a scene to disturb with loud and boisterous flirtations, after all. And beauty was something Kyouraku-Taichou understood.

_Understood well indeed, and pursued. Like that curvy young woman from the sixth division, or that quiet new recruit in the ninth. Or that red-head who had just joined their own squad. Or any other of the countless women who joined him for a night or two. Any of the countless women she refused to be._

"Your paperwork, sir. It needs to be completed before the end of the day. All of it." She glared at him as he tossed the (rather large) bundle of forms behind him, next to some of his used sake bottles.

"The paperwork isn't going anywhere, lovely Nanao-chan, but these flowers are leaving us forever." This took her by surprise – not the words themselves, it was so like him to use _flowers_ as an excuse to skive off work – but his tone. It was sad, wistful. Kyouraku-taichou was old, and had seen many (people) flowers come and go before him.

_Sometimes his eyes would look so _sad, _it startled her. They seemed out of place when paired with his easy-going, lazy smile. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him that she wouldn't leave him. That it would take more than a gentle breeze to blow her away._

"There will be more cherry blossoms next year, Captain." Nanao's voice was clipped, frosty. It would hold her facade in place, even as her traitorous emotions led her to rather unprofessional thoughts.

"Nonsense, Nanao-chan. There will never be _these_ blossoms, and _this_ scene, and the same sunlight shining on my pretty Nanao-chan's face – why, that's even more beautiful then all these flowers put together! Not that nature's show isn't beautiful of course, it's just-" he rambled on, as he tended to do. Nanao was used to it by now, oblivious to the long tirades that somehow always managed to ended up with him teasing her.

_She knew that's all it was – teasing. He was just trying to make her loose her calm, collected front. He didn't mean anything by it. She was just plain old Nanao, and he was Kyouraku-taichou. He _couldn't _mean anything by it. And she, as a vice-captain (_his _vice-captain), couldn't let him mean anything by it._

Despite her long years of practise, Nanao's patience with her captain's latest rant was wearing thin. This was the busiest season of the year, and that latest skirmish with the Espada had caused quite a backlog in the paperwork. Plus, there were still the financial reports. She didn't have the time for this. Not today.

"Kyouraku-taichou." He looked up, surprised. She usually waited until he paused for air, instead of cutting him off mid cadence. "These papers are important, sir. If you insist on watching the – what did you call it? – "spectacular display of the prowess and grace of nature around us", then you may do them out here. But they must be done. _Now."_

"Hmmmmm..." Shunsui thought about this idea – paperwork, outdoors? She'd never considered letting him do that before. His Nanao-chan must be getting desperate. She did look a little more pale, a little more tired, than usual. "Will my lovely Nanao-chan sit with me?"

"Just do the papers, sir." Nanao sat down next to him, her severe expression and straight posture looking out of place amidst the peaceful waves of pink. She made sure to give him her best glare, to enforce the fact she was not here because she _wanted_ to be. The severe look was only slightly diminshed by teh soft petals that already covered her hair and shoulers. Shunsui smiled, and took the pen she offered him, before lazily grabbing the sheaf of papers beside him.

_It was strange, to always be this close to him, and to always be so far away. _

"Just because I'm doing paperwork doesn't mean we can't talk. Indeed, what better encouragement for me then the soft silken voice of my Nanao-chan, telling me how much she loves me and about what we can do after the paperw-" he was cut off rather abruptly by her fan. "Ara, Nanao-chan, that hurt..."

They sat there all afternoon, with the cherry blossoms all around them and Shunsui waxing poetic about the scenery and "his lovely Nanao-chan." In fact, under her watchful eye, he even got some of his work done. Even more incredulous – and far less noticeable, if she retained any vestiges of her pride – was the fact that Nanao had greatly enjoyed herself.

-

Exactly one year had passed since that peaceful day. A year of war, bloodshed, and losses.

Nanao looked out the window of the fourth division healing room, if only to avoid looking at the bed. Or, rather, the very injured man on it. Unohana hadn't been to encouraging, but she said that there was still hope. If he woke up in the next week, there was a chance that Kyouraku-taichou would live.

_Shunsui. I never got the chance to call him Shunsui._

The clouds of fluffy pink cherry petals were falling, just the same as they had last year. It no longer seemed charming and magical, but wrong. The very trees seemed to weep for their fallen comrade. The silence was no longer peaceful, but oppressing, foreshadowing.

_The calm before the storm - only this calm not only tells of evil to come, but also of the evil gone by. We are in a never-ending string of storms, and we will weather this one, too. We have to._

The pinks of the petals seemed a little to red, but that might have just been Nanao's imagination. The sight of the blood – _his blood _- was still fresh in her mind. It had been much less graceful then the falling flowers, but had cloaked the ground as effectively.

_It was all she could think about, all she could see. She could still feel the heat of the kidou in her hands, and the weight of her zanpakuto; could still feel that overwhelming sense of loss as she _didn't make it in time. _She watched in horror, as he fell – slowly, as he did anything in life. She did not notice, did not care that he had managed to killed Tousen. She could still feel his head in her lap, as he mouthed, "your safe, my lovely Nanao-chan." Words were already beyond him, if the blood that bubbled from his lips was any indication._

Nanao had thought, not so long ago, that he was like the sakura blossoms: wild and gorgeous and lazily floating along; impossible to ignore, inspirational, gentle. _Pink._

The cherry blossoms were like clockwork in the Seireitei. They came back, every year, at the same time, despite the deaths, or wars, or paperwork. They were inevitable. She'd said that last year, too: 'There will be more cherry blossoms next year, Captain.'

Kyouraku-taichou – _Shunsui_, she corrected herself – was like the cherry blossoms. He would come back to her too.

/AN: Okay, okay, I'll admit it. This is my first fanfiction, and I'm just dying of nervousness. A kind word is all I ask! Review, for the love of Ukitake! _Constructive_ criticism is welcome, but flamers will be...I'm not sure. Glared at? I had planned for more to come, but now I'm just so scared about posting and realizing that I've done horribly. We'll see how much hate mail I get first, huh?


	2. Give Your Soul for a Flower

The chair was warm, comfortable; the type of large squishy armchair Nanao would normally love to curl up on with a good book. It was made of something durable and plastic-y, for easy cleaning, no doubt. The material was a dubious shade of grey, stained by its years of service in the fourth division. Nanao wasn't entirely comfortable thinking about what that particularly suspicious sport on the arm was, so she tried to think of something else_._

_Something other than him_.

Nanao remembered when Unohana-taicho first bought the chairs. They had been expensive at the time, and Fourth ran on a notoriously low budget, especially in relation to the importance of their work. She remembered helping Isane balance the division's budget after the expenditure, and wondering why so much was spent on chairs for people who weren't even injured. Now she understood: waiting was its own type of malady; waiting could hurt far more than a simple cut or broken bone. Unohana-taicho had been right when she'd said that warm cushions would be a minor blessing to those who would wait by the bedsides of their friends and family. Death was unpleasant enough without back pain and chills.

_But he's not going to die. He's going to wake up. _

Nanao's eyes narrowed at the thought, and she immediately cast her gaze around the room, looking for some diversion. Her sharp gaze quickly snapped to the view outside the window, where a cold, steady rain beat against the fourth division buildings. The cherry blossoms were almost all gone from the trees, and the massive piles that littered the grounds of the Seireitei were slowly being washed away. The mushy bunches of petals made a good sort of muck to thrown at other people, though, if she remembered correctly from her days in Rukongai.

Looking back now, the whole thing seemed so . . . ridiculous. Wasteful. She could have been learning kidou, or training at the academy. She could have been working towards a life outside of the slums, instead of wasting time, throwing balls of muddy flower petals. But a small part of her still smiles at the memory, remembering how fun it was to engage the other children in such battles. Joy was a precious commodity in Rukongai, especially in the 70th district.

_It's the kind of immature thing he would enjoy doing..._

Nanao shook her head. It had been a long three days, ignoring everything about him but refusing to leave his bedside. She had spent hours analyzing the small room: the paint (a dull sort of grey, like white that had lost its purity and brightness in the face of so much blood and decay), the sheets (soft, and surprisingly clean; did they save the good ones for captains, or for people who would be there a long time?), even the door (it was wider than most, to allow stretchers in and out). She couldn't bring herself to leave his side, but she could hardly sit there and think about him, about all the missions and the pranks and the suggestive comments and the random acts of kindness.

_About how much I'll miss him when he isn't there anymore, and how I don't think I can go on without him._

Nanao sighed at the thought, and focused on (anything else) the floor: were all the planks of equal width and length?

-

_Nanao cursed under her breath. There wasn't the time or air to complain loudly. There wasn't the time or air for anything but the battle itself, the dodging, slashing, parrying. Behind her, Nanao could hear the soft whistling of Kyouraku-taichou's swords, as they sliced through the air; occasionally, there was a much more solid sound, as they slid through flesh. They fought back-to-back, as they always did; covering each other's blind spots, close enough to come to the aide of the other if ever it was needed. There was no else Nanao would trust at her back during battle._

Slash, parry, feint, blast of kidou – that's two more down.

_The ground was slick with blood. It had long since stained and saturated the moist spring earth, making a menacing crimson mud. Nanao hoped fervently that most - all - of it belonged to the arrancar, but knew that the opposite was probably true: that most the blood she was slipping on belonged to the fallen members of the eighth division, of their division._

_It was kind of strange to wonder which of her officers were now saturating her socks. _

Shunpo, dodge, thrust, duck, another blast of red fire; another arrancar vaporized by her hands.

_Nanao straightened as she watched the few remaining hollows flee the battlefield. Behind her, she heard the captain's swords slide into his opponent, and the quiet slosh of another dead body hitting the mud. Nanao didn't bother looking to see how he had fared in the battle. These hollow were deadly only because of their high numbers, and he was one of the most powerful men she knew. The static in her ears finally quieted, before she heard the voice from the control room._

"_Ise-fukataicho? Telecommunication lines are back up, we've already alerted the eleventh division, they are coming to relieve you of your post. We are also sending a fourth division relief squad, who should arrive-"_

_Nanao turned to give the report to her captain, who was examining her worriedly. With an internal roll of the eyes – _really, she was fine, did he think she couldn't take care of herself against a few of those weaklings?_ – she relayed the message. Or tried to, she was interrupted before she had finished telling the captain that a relief squad was on its way._

"_You need to see Unohana, Nanao-chan." She looked down at herself, confused, to find that her leg was bleeding quite a bit – _when had that happened?_ It didn't hurt much _(yet),_ and, though it looked quite gory, it didn't seem particularly serious. Nonetheless, Kyouraku-taicho's voice was filled with concern as he continued: "take the members of the division who can still walk back with you. I'm going to see how well the rest of the division did."_

To see how many of theirs had died.

"_Sir, I'm fine. I will assist you-" Kyouraku-taicho cut her off immediately. If he were any other man, she would have said that he sounded angry, but she knew her taicho better. He was worried, and panicky._

His voice sounded as wrong as the air around them felt.

"_You need to bring the rest of them back, Nanao-chan. We have already lost too many today, and many need treatment now." Looking at his eyes, Nanao knew this wasn't the reason. He was worried about her and the division, but there was something else going on here. On any other day, she would have called him out, would have followed him, would have simply ordered the others to go back by themselves. But his tone of voice, and his eyes, filled with that strange emotion (disappointment? regret? Nanao couldn't place it) convinced her that this was serious. That he needed this._

"_Sir." She saluted with her usual brisk tone, hoping he would find some peace in the familiarity of her actions. She turned quickly, and sped along to see who had survived._

She never looked back, because that would mean acknowledging that something was wrong, or that it was fear she saw in his eyes.

-

Nanao was never surprised by the amount of visitors Kyouraku-Taichou would get when he was injured. He was a very popular man, especially with the ladies. What had surprised her today was the mood – everyone was different. Matsumoto hadn't brought any sake for him, and had been unusually quiet and suspiciously sober. Ukitake had been unable to visit, and was bedridden after the last attack of his sickness, but had sent his third seats to bear his good wishes. Sentarou and Kiyone had not competed with their bouquets, instead leaving a rather large pile of flowers that they had picked _together._ (Nanao was glad when Kiyone had snuck in later that day, determined to outdo her partner in crime with another armful of pink flowers – the girl still retained some sense of normality). Several of the eight division's officers had come in, but there had been no laughter, no jokes, no glorious retellings of the latest sake party. Just silence.

_They don't think he's going to wake up._

Nanao scoffed at the very idea.

_Idiots. They clearly don't know anything about him. He always comes back. He has too. He's Shunsui._

Like a mantra, she repeated the thought to herself, and tried to ignore the pity in the eyes of her friends as they came to visit the fallen (_not dying, of course he's not dying) _captain.

-

_She collected her division _(or what remained of it) _quickly, and the group set out to the gate between the Seireitei and the battlefield, which lay on an outer fringe of the soul society. Her leg began to hurt her – fiercely – as they continued traveling. They moved slowly, but steadily. Time would cost those gravely injured their lives. There looked to be about 60 others who could still walk, and 20 more were carried by their comrades._

There had been close to 500, four hours ago.

_It was an unpleasant journey, as the group wandered through the bodies of their fallen comrades. Every so often a cry would pierce the quiet, as someone recognized the corpses of their family or friends. It almost seemed a small mercy that most of the dead were beyond recognition. The air was still, but no one could mistake it for calm. It was more stagnant, as though nature itself held its breath, as though the battle was not entirely finished. It was ominous, and worried Nanao. She pulled aside her the division's fifth seat – third and fourth were still unaccounted for._

_The girl appeared to have broken an arm, by the looks of the makeshift sling she had tied around her neck. Far more worrying was the bleeding in her side – it made Nanao think of the last two fifth seats, both of whom had died in the last month. One had gone down in battle, but the other had lingered in agony for a good two weeks in the fourth division before succumbing to a stomach wound._

She didn't even know the officer's name; they had been going through people faster than Kyouraku-taicho went through sake.

"_I need to report to Kyouraku-taicho. I am leaving it to you to guide the rest of the squad to the gate and ensure that they receive medical care. You need to be tended immediately as well, make sure that the other remaining seated officers-"_

_The calm air seemed to explode around them, as energy rushed through the stillness. Many of the injured fell, overcome by the shear power of the reiatsu. Nanao was running, moving as fast as she could towards the source of the power._

He'd released bankai already...

-

"We've done all we can, Ise-fukutaichou. His body seems capable of healing, but his reiatsu is extremely low, and he seems to be resisting treatment. I'd give him one more day, but he can't last like this, and his condition seems to be worsening. You should think about saying goodbye." Unohana tried to smile, comforting and sad at the same time.

Nanao just looked at her with the detached glare she usually reserved for Academy students, or other chronically stupid people.

-

_She had used shunpo, but she still didn't make it before the bankai she recognized as Tousen's assembled itself, a dark tent, blocking all light, sound, reiatsu. Impenetrable, Nanao knew, but that still didn't stop her from throwing a ball of kidou towards the tent. After it bounced back and almost lit her sleeves of fire, she opted to wait. Kyouraku-taichou would have never let it go if she hurt herself trying to break _into _Tousen's little hell-hole. He would be fine – he was the strongest person she knew (besides Commander Yamamoto)._

He would be fine because he had promised her he would read her poetry under the sakuras, despite her refusals and protests. He owed her. He had to be alright.

_It wasn't long before the large black walls collapsed in on themselves. Had Kyouraku-taichou wounded Tousen?_

Or did Tousen no longer need his ultimate weapon?

_Nanao was charging towards the thick smoke before she had time to think about it, or rebuke herself for such a silly thought. Of course Taichou was alright; he was ... him. He would get a few cuts, of course, just to spite her and make her worry and do all his paperwork, but he would never do anything as malicious as _die _on her._

_The smoke was swirling everywhere, stinging her eyes and blocking her vision. It was like walking into a cloud; a very thick, eerie cloud, which smelled of burning flesh and fresh blood. A cold breeze stirred the mist for a breathe moment, and her breathe caught - it was already too late. _(Too damn late, and it was her fault for letting him go off on his own, for leaving his side on a battlefield, for not breaking Tousen's stupid camping tent/weapon, for everything she'd ever done and said to him, it was all her fault).

_Tousen's sword impaled Kyouraku-taichou, sliding clean through his stomach and out the other side of the infamous pink haori (which was slowly, slowly, turning red). The traitor himself still had both hands on his sword. His head was somewhere three feet to the left of him, rolling, but Nanao's eyes had already focused back on Kyouraku-Taichou. Her feet kept trying to move, but she felt clumsy, and useless. The sword in her hand and the glowing kidou all around her seemed foolish now. Fighting didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered, except him._

_Kyouraku stumbled backwards, his hands already on the hilt of the enemy zanpakuto. The haori swirled as he went down, like the enormous pile of sakura petals she had dropped on his head during the ryoka invasion. He went down slowly, and gracefully, like he did everything in life. The sickening squelch of the mud as it accepted his body never came, for which she was profoundly thankful. She was late, _(and terrible and incompetent and responsible entirely for this mess)_ but she could at least catch him as he fell._

_Her injured leg gave out beneath her as she accepted his weight, and they went down together _(as they should have – they should have fought and gone down together).

_Her eyes were wide, but they couldn't seem to take it all in. His eyes looked glassy and dull, and his hair was escaping its precious ornament. The soft brown curls were already matted with sweat and blood. His breathing was laboured, but shallow – more blood left his lips than air. She could feel the blood – warm and sticky and _wrong _as it soaked through her hakama._

_She was supposed to be saying something, she knew that. She was supposed to be apologizing, or comforting him, or helping him; all she could do was look at him in shock._

Your fault, everything. You did this to him. You _left _in the middle of a battle, for some stupid slash wound? You did this, and he knows it, too.

_Kyouraku-taichou's breathing was getting worse, she was sure of it. His warm eyes held hers, trying to say what he clearly could not, as his lips moved wordlessly._

"_You're safe now, Nanao-chan." He went limp in her arms, and she came to life again._

"_Medic!"_

She didn't need a medic. She needed Shunsui.

"_Kyouraku-taichou is down! We need a medic!"_

Why call a medic for someone who was already dead?

_-_

Nanao awoke with a start, to find herself curled up in the large grey chair she had spent the last several days in. Her eyes snapped the tidy white bed, and the (uncharacteristically) tidy man on it. He had been washed, his wounds bandaged. He had been dressed in the demur white hospital gowns that looked all wrong on his broad shoulders, his hair had been combed and braided neatly behind him.

_He hated braids._

An oxygen mask covered him mouth, and IVs dotted his hands and wrists. Nanao knew what all of them were for, just as she knew what all of the machines in the room were for. A quick glance at them told her that his condition was stable, or as stable as could be expected from someone who was ... injured.

_Not dying. Never dying._

The battle was still fresh in her memory though, and she leaned over in her chair to better see his face. It was foolish, but Nanao knew it would reassure her.

He was breathing slowly, evenly, but his breathe seemed to rattle around in his chest. There had been lung damage.

_There had been damage to almost every major organ in his body, except for, ironically enough, his liver._

His skin was clean, no longer covered in the dirt and blood of the plains. Clean, but not smooth – cuts criss-crossed face and neck. Normally, they would have been healed, but the Fourth was saving their reiatsu for more serious wounds.

_Or for people who had a greater chance of making it._

Nanao's heart stopped as his eyes flew open – there was that same warm brown gaze, flecked with gold, that she could always remember. The whole world stopped as relief washed over her, and frustration - _what had taken him so long? It was just like him to make her wait around for days, unproductive, while he slept. _Nanao felt her knees go weak, and felt everything slide back into place. She hadn't realized how _wrong _it had felt, and how real the danger had been, until now that he was okay again.

The machines around her blared to life, screeching warnings and spewing data, as Shunui trashed in the bed.

_He's not getting better. _

For the first time, Nanao allowed herself to admit the truth.

_He's dying._

-

The fourth division officer in charge of Kyouraku-taichou had alerted Unohana immediately, but it made no difference.

"He won't last much longer, Ise-fukutaichou. It is time for you to say your goodbyes." The calm and gentle captain looked unusually sad as she moved away. "I will go fetch Ukitake-taichou," she murmered over her shoulder. "He will want to be here, despite his current condition."

"You aren't even going to try?" Nanao hissed. She had never taken that tone with any captain, not even her own, but she couldn't find it within herself to care at the moment. "You're just going to ... to let him ... _die_?"

"Ise-fukutaichou. Nanao – look at me, Nanao. He is beyond us now – we can pour all our reiatsu into him, but it won't make a difference. His body can heal, but his soul has been torn to shreds. It can't hold the spirit energy, it can barely hold onto the will to live. I am sorry, Nanao, but it is time to let go." The tall woman swept out of the room.

Her intent was clear; a fukutaichou should get to say goodbye to her captain.

-

Nanao rushed to his bedside, unusually dishevelled. She had never thought that it would end like this, (_never thought it would end at all) _and there was still so much to say. He couldn't go like this.

She wouldn't _let _him go like this.

Nanao's hands pressed lightly on his chest, and she forced her reiatsu into him, only realizing afterwards what Unohana had meant. His soul wouldn't hold the spirit energy, and trying to force it into him was like trying to carry water in a sieve. The healing kidou didn't go into him, it went through him. Even if she could somehow miraculously manage to pull this off, his broken soul would probably always remain damaged; his spirit energy, his zanpakuto, his strength (_his personality and his kindness and his romantic nature she secretly loved, no matter how ridiculous it was) _could all be lost.

Not that it mattered. There was no bringing him back now anyways. Her strength was quickly failing her, she only had so much reiatsu left, and he hadn't even _blinked, _even after draining most of her strength. There was no hope, and surely she retained enough good sense to recognize a lost cause when she saw one. She couldn't afford to injure herself – someone had to take care of the division.

But ... She was Ise-fukutaichou. She was strong and dedicated and loyal, and she would follow her captain anywhere.

_She loved him, and she _couldn't _let him leave her; not yet, not ever. Not like this. They would go down together in battle if need be, but they would go _together, _dammit._

More energy, more healing kidou. Somewhere outside the room, the fourth division officer left in charge in Unohana's wake was yelling. Nanao didn't care.

More reiatsu, more of her spirit power – he needed more. She would give it all, if she had to; and she did have to, because living would be worthless without him. What kind of vice-captain doesn't try to save their captain?

_What kind of woman would let her love die like this?_

Her fingers were no longer the pale blue of the reiatsu – rather, her whole body (and his, too) was cloaked in some fiery purple, and filled with the heat her power. It seemed to bubble and blaze around them, filling her vision with color-spots and making his skin look an even more ghostly shade.

More of her spirit power, more of her soul. All of her soul, if need be.

The world went black, but the purple haze remained, burned into her eyes. She thought she heard his voice, as she went under. She thought she heard his laughter, and smelled sake, and felt sunlight and the faintest brush of sakura petals against her skin.

_I hope we meet again, captain, in the next world._

AN/Okay, so I'm back again. It was originally going to be very drabblish, but now I have a whole plot lined up ... (treacherous, fickle mind of mine, I know). Soooo, I hope that doesn't really bother anyone. Once again, review. I live on the reviews. I need them, as Ulquirra needs sunscreen, as Kenpachi needs hair gel. And a thousand points of awesome and win to those of you who already reviewed. Just say something, please, before I go mad checking several times a day.

Suggestions welcome, I guess; constructive criticism, definitely. Kubo owns Bleach, not I (or Shunsui and Nanao would be the main characters. Maybe even the only characters. This is why I cannot be allowed to have nice things).


	3. No Spring Without Rain

The rain was the first thing he made out, when he became conscious. The soft, rhythmic tapping of the raindrops on the thin walls of the fourth division was soothing, a sound he had always enjoyed.

Rain reminded him of Nanao-chan, after all.

Not winter rain, or the cold steel sleet that came at the end of winter, but the warm spring showers or quiet summer afternoon rains. She wasn't cold, however much people might think so; she gave life and purpose to those around her. She just didn't do it with the sunshine and warmth that so many others seemed to think mattered.

Rain was important. Without it, the cherry blossoms would never bloom, and the rainbows wouldn't shine. Most people probably didn't set much store by those things, but Shunsui knew better. He knew that sometimes you had to take the small, petty blessings, because life wasn't going to give you much more than that.

_That sometimes, when the blood was running down his face and getting in his eyes, he would die for cherry blossoms and rain._

She wasn't sunshine or warmth, but he could provide that, as long as she would stay with him. And sometimes he needed her to rain on his parades.

Shunsui couldn't remember traveling to the fourth division, but he knew he was there. He could feel the soft, familiar sheets, and the weight of the quiet, still air on him, heavy with healing reiatsu. More important than his current setting, however, was Nanao's. He couldn't recall much from his battle with Tousen, but he knew that she had been there. That he had made sure she was safe.

That, of course, meant that his loyal Nanao-chan was somewhere around the Fourth, waiting for him to wake up. Was she worried? He hated it when she worried, or cried...

_But a small part of me hopes that she worries anyway._

No doubt Nanao would bury him under a mountain of paperwork for getting himself injured in such a crucial time. She believed that he should be punished for his idiocy often, to discourage him from doing anything stupid again.

_It was a silly way of saying that she was worried, but it meant a lot to him that she cared._

Still, paperwork was worth it to see him lovely Nanao-chan – she was as beautiful and refreshing as the rain, and just as necessary.

There was no spring without the rain.

-

It was some hours (or days, or minutes) before Shunsui actually opened his eyes. As always, the whiteness of the room blinded him at first – he was always rather grateful for Nanao-chan peering over him like that, and blocking the light. Plus, her expression of concern made him feel quite special, before she returned to her usual professional self. He loved that curious little wrinkle she would get in her brow when she was concentrating hard on something other than paperwork.

Eventually, after much blinking, Shunsui's eyes cleared, and he looked up at the woman above him. A lazy smile started spreading across his lips, but it quickly stopped when he realised that his Nanao-chan was missing.

"Kyouarku-taichou, it's good to see that you're awake." Unohana looked tired and worried, with dark bags under her eyes. "It will be some time before you can get out of bed, and back to your squad, but we expect you to make a full recovery. I'll need to check some of your test res-"

"Where is she?" he rasped. Shunsui didn't normally cut off Unohana, but this was no longer a normal situation. Nanao was _always _there when he woke up in the Fourth. _Always. _Even if it was just a hangover. He tried to sit up, but Unohana gently pushed him back down.

"Kyouraku-taichou, your wounds were very serious. Although they have been somewhat healed, moving around right now will cause almost certain death." Shunsui stilled: Nanao would be angry at him if he died.

He laid still as he listened to Unohana's quiet voice, unable to comprehend her words. His hands slowly fisted in the white sheets, but he made no other movements, no sound.

Outside, the rain continued to fall.

-

Nanao could hear the rain too, and it took her by surprise. She wasn't sure what she had expected, but it certainly hadn't been rain.

_A very small part of her – the part that still believed in hope and redemption and magic - had expected eternity under a large cherry blossom tree beneath the sun, curled up with Kyouraku-taichou and a good book. _

Instead there was only darkness; darkness and rain.

So far, death was cold.

-

It took Shunsui four days to convince Unohana to let him visit Nanao. She was in the room next to his, but Unohana had been worried on the effect it would have on his recovery – not that she said so of course. When you knew someone for that many centuries, words didn't mean as much.

"_She shoved all her reiatsu into you, Shunsui - all of it, and something more. There's still a chance, and she is still alive, but I don't think she'll ever wake up."_

Words didn't mean as much, but sometimes they still meant the world.

He stared anxiously at her face, as though wishing hard enough would make her open her eyes. Her skin was paler than usual, and she looked thinner – like she was collapsing under her own weight. The bags under her eyes were no longer the slight blue that came from too much paperwork too late, but a deep black. She was still beautiful, but it was more ... tragic, now. Her hair had been brushed and washed, but no one had put it up since moving her into the room, since her reiatsu had shattered her hair clip.

_She did it to save you – it's your fault. You did this to her. You killed her._

He shook the thought away. It was his fault, that was undeniable, but she was not dead yet.

"Nanao-chan," he whispered softly. "Come back, Nanao-chan. Who will run our division? Who will make sure I do my work?"

_Who will make me laugh, and feel relaxed, and wash away all the evils in the world? Who will be my rain now?_

She didn't stir. He held one of her hands in his. He could feel the warmth, could just make out a heartbeat. It was steady, but slower and fainter than he had hoped.

"Who will I love?" His voice broke a little, and he felt something wet on his cheek.

It wasn't the rain, and Shunsui knew he might never know that feeling again, just as he knew that he would surely die with her if she went.

There was no spring without rain.

/AN: Melancholy, yek. This is why I should not write unless I'm in a good mood. Happier chapter next time, I promise. As always, review! Pretty please with Szayel on top, review!. I love constructive criticism and suggestions, but no flamers please. Thanks a ton to those who have already reviewed, especially sunfire1180 for reviewing both chapters and Butterfliesinthewind for the constructive criticism (and reviewing both chapters too).

Also, what do you guys think? Shorter chapters and faster updates, or longer, less frequent ones? This one is really short, but I didn't want to kill the mood with anything else. I'm new! Guide me!

Bleach doesn't belong to me. Not even a little.


	4. Voices in the Rain, in Death

It wasn't so much that Nanao didn't mark the passage of time as it was that time didn't pass there. And even if it had, what would she have measured it with?

Time was always measured by events, although not necessarily the ticking of the clock. Her life could be broken into two time periods: before she had become Kyouraku-taichou's vice-captain, and after. There were other subdivisions, she supposed, based on those important landmark events of her life: her time at the academy, her graduation, the war.

_Her falling in love with him._

Everything could be measured by those events. Here, there was nothing to measure with, no events or changes, no clocks. The strange sort of afterlife she seemed to have been shoved into was dark, but dark at a constant rate, with no obvious day or night. The silence continued, as did the cold, and the faint tapping of raindrops somewhere far away. Nanao didn't move, but she didn't really want to. She wasn't even sure that she had a body here, but, for some reason, this didn't seem to bother her.

_What bothered her more than anything was that he was missing – had she saved him?_

Nanao was a soldier; the fukutaichou of her division, in fact. She had expected to die, and she had expected it to be for her captain; she hadn't expected it to be like this. There was, nonetheless, a sort of peace in knowing that despite her failures (_she had allowed him to fall, she was the reason he had been dying in the first place_) she had done everything she could. Besides, who could say what had happened to him? Kyouraku-taichou obviously wasn't _here, _so why couldn't he still be living?

_Delusional hope is better than none at all, I guess._

-

It was sometime . . . later. Nanao didn't know how much later, or even that it was any later at all, only that it didn't happen _before_. The rain continued, the quiet rhythmic sound of a gentle spring shower; it was a sound Nanao enjoyed, even if she disliked the rain itself. The rain was too cold and depressing.

_One couldn't sit outside, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight with a drunken captain, in the rain._

Slowly, very slowly, another sound worked its way into the rain. She couldn't place her finger on _what_ it was, exactly, but it sounded . . . _right, _somehow. If a sound lost in the rain could sound right, that is.

_It sounds a little like him._

Once the thought had occurred to her, she didn't know how she had initially missed it. Of course it was him – his deep, slow drawl was recognizable anywhere, even if she couldn't make out the words. Still, something sounded slightly off about it. This sound wasn't right, for some reason; it wasn't lazy enough, wasn't peaceful enough, wasn't everything that she defined as _him._

But it was as close to him as she had here, so she tried to find where it was coming from. Nanao whirled around a few times, but couldnt see anything in the darkness. The sound itself was in the rain, which was all around her.

_I'm supposed to wait here._

Nanao didn't know how she knew it, but she did. It was the natural course of things, and the knowledge of this seemed deeply engraved somewhere within her. It was like knowing that she loved _him_, or knowing the name of her zanpakuto; the facts didn't have to be explicitly stated, and probably never would, but she knew.

_I'm supposed to wait here, and someone will come to take me onwards, to the next place._

She knew this, and she wanted to listen to that part, wanted to do what was right. But . . . there was something familiar in the voice in the rain, and she wasn't leaving until she found it.

_She wasn't leaving until she found him._

Ignoring the nagging feeling deep within her, Nanao took a step forward – not with her legs, but with her mind. It didn't make much sense to her, but then again, she had never died before. Just as she knew she was supposed to wait, she knew direction didn't matter. The rain was all around her, and there was only forwards and backwards now. It felt strange to move at first; then it _hurt._

Nanao was a fukutaichou. Pain or no pain, she was not leaving here without her captain.

_Pain or no pain, she couldnt go on alone._

-

It was easier to measure the passing of time now that there was pain, but that was a very small comfort to Nanao. Each step seemed to hurt worse than the one before it, as though fire and ice were all around her, running through her veins – if she still had veins. Nanao was now sure that she didn't have the body here, and could thus conclude that no damage was being done to her physically.

_It is my soul that is dying._

She kept going forward.

-

Nanao kept moving until the pain grew unbearable; then she kept going anyways. She didn't know how much time had passed, but the change in her sufferings reminded her that it was passing.

_Could you die, in the next life, before you even got there?_

The rain continued to pour around her, and the sound of Kyouraku-Taichou grew stronger. She still couldn't make out any words, or recognize what that strange anomaly in his voice was, but she knew without a doubt that it was him.

_You must turn back. There is nothing but pain and death ahead._

Again, the strange flash of intuitive knowledge that Nanao knew came from something beyond her. It seemed stronger now, and the threat much more real.

Nanao kept moving, and eventually all self-awareness left her.

-

Nanao knew that she was suddenly in a different place – it was not as dark, for one. She couldn't say that there was less pain, but there was a different sort of pain; the type of injuries and sore muscles and exhaustion, not fire within her very core.

_I'm in Fourth . . . I'm alive._

Nanao felt like an idiot – of course she was in Fourth. What had she been thinking, trying to force her reiatsu into Kyouarku-taichou that way? Everyone knew that it didn't work that way; that you couldn't force energy into a spirit broken beyond repair; once you died, you died.

It was common knowledge, but Nanao still felt tears prickle beneath her closed eyelids.

_You couldn't save him. You will never be able to save him again. He's dead now, because of you._

Consciousness slowly returned to her, as it always did when she woke up in Fourth. She would slowly become aware of her own body again – the throbbing in her leg, the sheer _weight _of her limbs – and then her surroundings. The rain was still pouring, but more gently now, as though the very water had given up with its task. It sounded melancholy and lost.

_Suits my mood, doesn't it?_

She was warm, and she could feel the soft sheets and thin cotton robe of the Fourth division around her. That was all very normal to Nanao. The Gotei Thirteen was, essentially, a military organization: every member had woken up in the Fourth at some point. What was distinctly _not _normal was the warm feeling of someone clasping her right hand. It took another couple of minutes for her head to clear enough for her to open her eyes, though – Fourth used a strange type of pain killer that always seemed to disorient her.

At first, the light was too bright, and all she could make out was the silhouette of someone standing over her. Whoever it was, they were still holding her hand, but much more tightly now.

"Nanao-chan? Nanao, can you hear me? Someone call Unohana, I think she's waking up!"

She blinked a few times, looking up at the tall figure. Kyouarku-Taichou looked back at her, worry in his deep brown eyes, which were rimmed with red and shadowed by large bags. It looked as if he hadn't slept in days. His rumpled clothes didn't do much to countermand the impression, but, then again, they never did.

"What are you doing here?" was what she _tried _to say. It came out more like a pained groan. Was it all a dream? Or had she really died? Maybe the stress had made her crazy.

_Maybe you actually saved him._

"Are you feeling okay? Where does it hurt? You can never worry me like that again, Nanao!" His voice came out raspy and dry, and entirely wrong. He didn't sound teasing or gentle, but worried and upset. Kyouarku-taichou sat down, his flowered haori fluttering softly as it settled around his shoulders; he still craned over her, though, his eyes never leaving hers.

_As if I'll disappear the second he looks away._

They stared at each other in silence for a few minutes, not really knowing what to say. Kyouraku-taichou seemed to have used up all his words, and was now searching her face for some sign that she was in pain, or angry at him. Nanao was quite speechless too. She had tried to follow him into the world of the dead, and now he was perfectly fine? What do you say to someone after you do something like that? Besides, speaking _hurt, _and, if her last attempt was any measure, speaking was beyond her right now.

Speechlessness had never been their style, and both were grateful when Unohana-taichou swept in. She started asking Nanao how she felt, and looking at her charts, giving the lieutenant something to say, as well as some sort of healing tea that made answers possible.

Kyouraku-taichou never let go of her hand.

-

/AN: So it wasn't a whole lot happier this time. Sorry 'bout that. But Nanao woke up – yay

Review! Review, review, review! I cherish each and every review, and would love for more to hoard. Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed, especially Butterfliesinthewind, Skolli, Kohryu, sunfire1180, and akirk85029, who all reviewed more than once, and often made me smile, or even laugh (although probably unintentionally).

(Skolli in particular. She said "_ahh, just don't take us back and forth on asleep and awake between the two of them_." Couldn't you see it? Like, 20 times, back and forth? Or, has anyone read that book by Louis McMaster Bujold, (Paladin of Souls. Twas good, but Curse of Chalion was the best, it's my favourite) where the two brothers technically shared one life, so only one of them could be awake at one time? And then I got to thinking how that would actually be really cool, and how it could kind of be worked in here, but how only I would find it funny. This is a long parenthesis tangent, but I'm like that).

Um, just wanted to point out why I'm using "Kyouraku-taichou" (not "Shunsui") whenever I write from Nanao's point of view despite the fact that it doesn't flow at all. I know it doesn't flow, I know it sounds bad, but it's some sort of failed attempt at characterization: the formality acts as a distance-er. It's her attempt. We actually see her abandon this formality in the first chapter, which I think shows a lot about her feelings at the time. Then again, I may have just spent too much time on my English homework, and be seeking to add depth to the ordinary.

Sometimes I write really long ANs just because they're so much easier then the stories.

Does anyone else thing I'm overusing commas, semi colons and colons? They're just so handy...

Bleach is not mine. Nor are any of Louis McMaster Bujold's works.


	5. Colors of life

The next few days were a blur to Nanao. She woke up every few hours or so, but only for a few confusing minutes, before the officer on duty would knock her out again with some serious sleeping medication. If it were a normal injury at a normal time, the Fourth would have simply healed her with a good shot of Kidou and sent her on her way. Unfortunately for Nanao, her injuries were anything but normal, and Fourth was already overrun with the constant injuries from the ongoing skirmishes with Aizen's forces – they would need every drop of power they had to save the wounded who were brought in from the battlefield.

_They would need every drop of power just to save a quarter of them; more will die in Fourth from their injuries than would on the battlefield._

Everyone knew that Fourth was being pushed its limits with the war, in a way no other division was. To everyone else, it was "do or die"; to them, it was "do or let someone else die, probably painfully". All the healers were exhausted; most were almost completely drained of their reiatsu stores. A few officers had actually overdosed on the patented Fourth Energy Pill – they had not been given beds, as there were no rooms, but had lain down in the supply room for a few days taking any medication they felt necessary.

Nanao knew she was very fortunate to have a private (albeit cramped) room, and that only her rank afforded her such a luxury. However, it felt like more of a curse when, after nearly a month of fading in and out of consciousness, she woke up for good. That is, it felt like more of a curse when she woke up to find herself alone with Kyouraku-taichou in a very small room, with all the medics far too busy to save her from the awkwardness of the situation.

"Nanao-chan." His voice was soft, and didn't seem to carry its usual teasing. "Are you awake for good now? How do you feel?" He was leaning over her once again, but he wasn't holding her hand this time. His eyes were less red, she noted, but they still held all the fatigue and tiredness she had seen last.

"I'm fine, taichou." She sat up slowly – _very slowly, when had she become that weak_? – as he sank into the familiar grey chair beside her.

It was very quiet, as she studied the white coverlet of her bed, avoiding his eyes.

_Think of something to say!_

Nothing sounded good in her head . . .

_So, I see you are no longer dying, Kyouraku-taichou._

_ Sir, I wasn't really that desperate for your company that I was trying to kill myself._

_ What, the coma? No, it's not from that reiatsu transfer, this happens to me all the time!_

As usual, her captain interrupted her thoughts. As usual, he wasted no time getting to the important issue.

"Why, Nanao?" His had that same mournful quality she remembered hearing earlier, as though he was in pain; as though she was causing him pain. His eyes reflected the sorrow in his voice, as he looked at her.

_He looks lost._

"I ... sir, you were dying. As your first officer I had to ... to ... I ..." she was stuttering, and she _hated _that: it was weak. She took in a deep breath, and tried to imitate her normal icy tones. "It is my duty, as your fukutaichou, to try and aid my commanding officer in any way poss-"

"You really think I'll believe that, Nanao?" He leaned in, taking her hand in his; it was warm, and comforting, like he was supposed to be. His voice wasn't playful, or happy, but rather hurt. The quality seemed to grow worse every time he opened his mouth, and she could hardly stand to listen anymore. "You were willing to kill yourself – and it was certain death, you _know_ that a reiatsu transfer like that should have been impossible – for a chance to save me? A one-in-a-billion chance, if that, considering how badly I was injured, or so Retsu tells me. After waiting by your bedside for a month, wondering if you would _die_ because of _me_, you want me to just accept that it was _duty_, and get on with my life like nothing happened?"

His tone held less injury now, and more anger; not so much at her, but at her obvious attempt to brush the issue aside; anger at himself, for almost letting her get away with it.

"You ..." she couldn't think of the words to say, and took another minute of silence to gather her thoughts. How much did she want to reveal?

_How much did she remember of her sitting by his deathbed, wishing she had said everything; wishing she had gotten the courage to call him Shunsui._

"Kyouraku-taichou, you are my captain. And I ... I am your vice-captain. It's more a part of who I am than anything else, it is _me_. It was duty sir, not just to my position, or to you, but to myself; I am your fukutaichou, and I will follow wherever you may lead."

He looked her in the eyes, then, violet meeting the warm brown in a clash of wills. She cringed internally – he should never have to look like that; he should never have to look like that because of _her_. After a while, he sighed. "Oh, my lovely Nanao-chan. What would I do if I had lost you?" Before she knew it she was surrounded by his arms, by the soft silk of his haori. She hadn't realized how cold she was until she felt him against her, warmth all around her.

_She hadn't felt alive for nearly a month, but now she felt warm again._

They sat like that for several minutes, him holding her tight, and her letting him (needing him). She knew he wasn't satisfied with her answer, but didn't want to push her anymore today. Nanao tried to push thoughts of explanation out of her head. For now, she was content to stay there, silent, with him, with his silly haori draped around them both.

_His haori?_

"Sir, what happened to your haori?" Nanao would never admit to liking the flamboyant pink _thing, _but it suited him, and she loved it for that alone. This new haori had all the exact same patterns, and softness, and smell as his old one, but it was in grey. The green of the leaves was the same, and a few colors dotted it, but nowhere on the garment was so much as a stitch of pink.

She wrinkled her nose: grey did not suit him. It looked good on him, of course, (everything did) but he wasn't himself without the pink overrobe. In fact, now that she noticed it, nothing in the room was pink – there were some brightly colored flowers (normal) with some grey buds mixed in (definitely not normal), but no pink. True, most of Fourth was done out in tasteful whites and greys, but wherever her captain went, there was pink. It was _him._

He drew back, and looked between her and the haori.

_What happened to him, that he would refuse to wear pink? Grey isn't _him. _Surely it was just some strange accident at the cleaners ... Unless ... Did the reiatsu transfer have negative effects on his personality?_

She felt a rush of guilt and horror – nothing like that had ever been successful. When she had pushed her reiatsu into him, she had thought only of her being with him, not of the effects it would have on him. She had probably messed it up, and ... what? There were so many different ways she could have damaged him, physically, mentally. He seemed the same, but what if she had changed him? What if he hated her for it?

_What if the man I love is gone forever?_ She shook her head faintly at that thought – she could never _not_ love him.

"Don't worry about my haori now, Nanao-chan. I'll go get Retsu-chan, she'll need to run some tests." After embracing her again, he stood up and walked towards the door. "We'll talk more about this later, don't think you've gotten out of it."

He swept out of the room, leaving a very tired and confused Nanao in his wake.

She wasn't sure what to make of the strange grey haori he had left draped around her, but was grateful for the lingering warmth of _him _within it.

/AN: Thanks to everyone who reviewed! You guys are awesome

I'm not really happy with this chapter, it took me forever to write (sorry about that) and decide what would happen. Review, pretty please? Click that little "go": button at the bottom, I beseech you!


	6. Losing Pink

Unohana sighed quietly – almost too quietly to be heard – as she leaned back from examining Nanao. She had held her hands on the girl's arm for at least fifteen minutes, trying to determine what the exact damage to Nanao's reiatsu was – the patient herself seemed too drained to fully observe the change of her spiritual energy. Before that, the healer had quizzed Nanao on all sorts of (irrelevant) topics: the room they were in, how to fill out paperwork, her colors and numbers, her past, basic math; she had also examined the rather nasty looking wound on Nanao's leg, her several broken ribs, and changed all the bandages.

"I believe I have come to a conclusion on the full extent of the damage you received, Ise-fukutaichou. Would you like to discuss this in private?" Unohana's eyes darted towards the unusually solemn man sitting at Nanao's side.

Nanao shook her head– he had been awake and sober (and worried and frowning) for at least two hours straight, and surely did not deserved to continue on in suspense.

_Plus, I feel warmer when he's around._

Nanao had been much colder than usual since waking up, and was now shivering slightly. Remembering the warmth of his embrace, she wished that she were bold enough to take his hand in hers.

_One more wish to add to the growing pile of unrealistic, juvenile fantasies._

"He can stay, Unohana-taichou."

She nodded understandingly, before continuing on in her calm, quiet voice. "Physically, you seem to be doing fairly well – your leg is healing nicely, as are your broken ribs. They would heal faster with reiatsu, but, well, we can't use healing kidou on you presently." She seemed almost unsure as of how to continue with her diagnosis.

"If it's just a matter of the power, I'll be happy to lend mine," Kyouraku-taichou said quietly. He had seemed reserved all day, and it had been bothering Nanao almost as much as the grey haori still draped around her. At the moment, the idea of lending her some energy seemed to have perked him up, if only a little. "You do look rather tired, Retsu-chan. You need to take better care of yourself."

"No, it's not like that." Unohana shook her head softly, and her thick black braid seemed to shine in the light as it moved. "You are, of course, familiar with the hakusui soul sleep, the source of a soul's power? And the saketsu chain, which acts as a booster for this spiritual energy?" ()

Nanao grew panicked at the mere thought; if anything had happened to her reiatsu stores, she would need to be taken away from battle for at least another month while the soul slowly repaired itself.

_Who would protect Kyouraku-taichou in battle?_

_Then again, it's not as though you did a particularly good job of that the last time ... _Guilt rushed through her again.

"They weren't damaged were they?" She could barely keep the anxiety from her voice, and winced as she sat up straighter; a lot would depend on the answer.

"Not ... exactly. They're just ... well, they're gone." Unohana looked straight at her; she seemed almost as surprised to have said it as Nanao was to hear it. The lieutenant stayed quiet, as though waiting for Unohana to explain her strange statement. It almost seemed too absurd to warrant a reply.

"Every soul I've seen in this life has a hakusui, although only those strong enough to become shinigami have a seketsu. These – well, _organs, _for lack of a better word – are considered necessary to life in the soul society, but are neither visible to the eyes nor necessarily a guarantee of power. That you are still breathing is a miracle in itself, Ise-fukutaichou." She paused, then, sensing that she had lost Nanao – not in her explanation, as Nanao was a very bright individual, but in the concept: a soul with a hakusui was like a person without a head. No matter how much the Twelfth might argue its plausibility, one simply didn't consider it possible.

The idea stunned Nanao for a good twenty seconds, and then the thought of the repercussions got to her.

_No hakusui, no spirit energy. I can't perform kidou, I can't even ... Oh shit._

"Where is my zanpakuto?" Her tone had come out harsher than she had meant it too, but she couldn't find within herself the energy to waste caring on something so trivial. If she survived the loss of _this, _she could apologize to the kindly healer later. She tried to get out of bed – she would _find_ her zanpakuto herself if need be – but Unohana gently pushed her back down.

"Ise-fukutaichou ... Nanao-san ... you know that a zanpakuto is a manifestation of a person's spirit energy. If they don't have any spirit energy..." Nanao had known it was true, but it still hurt to hear.

"Kyouraku-taichou had finally caught on, and stood up faster than Nanao's eyes could follow. "Are you suggesting that she can no longer serve as my vice-captain?" He seemed as outraged at the idea as Nanao was was.

_Probably just frightened that he'll have to do the paperwork himself..._It was a bitter thought, and Nanao hated herself for thinking it, just as she hated knowing that it was probably true.

"I am telling you both that Ise-fukutaichou can no longer serve in the Gotei 13. The Central 46 has already reviewed the case, given her an honourable discharge, and an open post in any branch of the soul society outside of the Thirteen Divisions. I ... I am truly sorry, Nanao-san. All members of the Gotei-13 must be able to cleanse souls, and for that they must have a zanpakuto and spirit energy. The Central Library, although aligned with the Thirteen Squads, is actually independent, however, if you would be interested..." the captain trailed off, sensing that her audience was no longer paying attention. Unohana decided to give them a few minutes of silence.

"So ... Nanao can't even be my office assistant? She has to leave the Gotei 13 entirely?" Kyouraku-taichou's eyes had gone wide, and his voice sounded unusually small and lost. He sat back down, studying Nanao, waiting for her reaction.

Unohana shook her head, and continued looking at Nanao, who was doing her best to ignore what she had just been told. It was a technique Unohana had seen many use, when they were trying to avoid a particularily painful subject.

"I'm sorry, Unohana-taichou, you were saying how this," she gestured vaguely with her hands, trying to find words, "_circumstance_ prevents you from healing my physical wounds with reiatsu?"

"Pure reiatsu – as used in healing - is only effective because one's hakusui accepts the reiatsu and changes it into healing energy. The opposite can be said of combative reiatsu: the energy used in shields, or defensive and offensive kidou, is rejected by the opponent's hakusui, causing harm." Nanao nodded briskly.

"I ... see. Thank you for your time Unohana-taichou. If that's all, I would like to be alone now."

_If that's all, I would like a moment or two to consider how I can continue to live in a world without my captain._

Nanao tried to keep the tears from falling in front of the two captains: now that her power was gone, her pride was pretty much all that she had left. She tried to focus instead on the silken haori wrapped around her thin frame. Once she had gotten over the initial shock, it wasn't half bad looking. The soft grey was woven through with shots of silver, and offset the dark green leaves and fluffy white clouds in a surprisingly pretty way.

_It still wasn't right._

"I'm so sorry, Nanao ... There's more." She could hear the reluctance in Unohana-taichou's voice, as she struggled to remain calm. "You see, the saketsu chain and hakusui both seem to have been lost when you were giving reiatsu to Kyouraku-taichou. That was the price to heal his physical wounds, and repair his own damaged saketsu chain. One reason this was impossible before your attempts was that any reiatsu we put into him wouldn't hold. The medical term is a "soul gap" – when you are more than half dead, not enough of the soul remains in the body to accept or reject the reiatsu around it. Though it was previously thought to be impossible, even more so then living without a hakusui, you somehow called his soul back, and rewove the missing areas."

Kyouraku-taichou was still looking at Nanao, searching her face for some hint of – what? Frustration, anger? Regret?

"To call back his soul, you needed to patch the gaps – the irretrievable parts of himself that were somewhere in the next world."

_Is that why his haori is grey? I fixed his soul wrong?_

"From what I can tell – and right now, it is all guesswork, this is quite an unprecedented case – you filled in the holes using things you associate with your captain. Unfortunately, these things have been lost to you, it would seem. Judging by your medical readings and what your captain has told me, you placed warmth into him. And ... well, the color pink."

Nanao wasn't sure what to make of that.

"I ... lost the color pink?"

-

After another twenty minutes of explaining, Unohana left to tend other patients; or rather, that was her excuse for leaving. There was something very knowing and _scary _in the way she had smiled at Nanao as she left her and Kyouraku-taichou together. Alone. In that shoebox of a room.

_As if losing my reiatsu and position and _pink_ weren't enough, she has to torture me some more._

Nanao scoffed at the thought – who the hell lost the color pink? No one looses a color. It's not some sort of sock or hair clip to be misplaced or broken. And warmth – she was cold, that was true, but would she never be warm again?

_I felt warm when I was in his arms..._

Nanao shivered again beneath her blankets and his grey, cold haori.

_Nothing would ever be the same again._

_-_

Shunsui watched Nanao quietly, trying to judge how she was taking this. He could tell by her expression that she was thinking about the pink. Or, rather more importantly, that she was distinctly avoiding addressing her demotion.

Nanao lived for her work. The Eighth was her family, she gave everything to them. She poured herself into her paperwork, into the missions, into training herself and her teammates. Some people wondered why she didn't bother with a life outside of work; he knew that her life _was_ her work. What would she do now that she could no longer serve with them, could no longer cleanse the lost souls and fight hollows and chase him around and hit him with heavy objects? What would he do?

_It's my fault – she gave it all up for me. She must hate me now..._

A strangled sob escaped from Nanao as she finally started to realize what leaving would mean.

"Nanao, I-"

He was quickly cut off.

"I'm fine sir. Please, if you could just leave me to think for a minute..." It broke his heart to watch her stare back at him, pretending to not notice the tears running down her cheeks. Normally he would let her have her pride: if she wouldn't recognize the tears, she certainly didn't want him too. Normally he would come back later and drag her outside to watch the cherry blossoms, or the fireworks, or the sunset with him. He would let her think her problems over, then cheer her up and remind her that he would always be there for her.

_Nothing will ever be normal again._

He held her tightly, and hoped she would stop shivering so much.

"I'm staying right here. I'll always be here, for my beautiful Nanao-chan."

-

()Saketsu chain, hakusui soul sleep, as mentioned in chapter 56, volume 7. These are the things Byakuya destroys when he takes Ichigo out and brings Rukia back to the soul society. There's very little information available on the subject (that I could find), so I kind of elaborated on (made up) their exact details.

-

/An: I'm not terribly happy with it, but, like the last chapter, it's more of a plot piece than a character one. What did you think?

Review, review, review, please! I love reading everyone's comments, and it really makes my day. ) Plus, I'm not sure where I was going to go from here. Originally, Nanao was just going to have to live it out like this, but now I'm not sure if I want to miraculously cure her not. (Well, no, I still don't, but I want to hear what you think). Any opinions, suggestions, comments?

Props to Skolli for realizing that it wasn't Shunsui who had changed to the grey haori, but Nanao. (I really like the grey haori in my mind. It's kind of pretty). And thanks so much to everyone again for your kind words of encouragement!

(An afterthought: I know, it's still so dreary. I can't seem to write happily! Argh! I'll work on it though...)


	7. Feeling warm again

Nanao wasn't entirely sure how long they had stayed like that, with her crying into his chest, gradually soaking through his uniform. It occurred to her that this was entirely inappropriate, but that it didn't really matter anymore – she was no longer his fukutaichou, she was just another one of the countless women in his life.

_She was just another foolish girl in love, to be cast aside once someone new catches his eye._

She pulled away, slowly, hating how cold it was outside the circle of his arms; hating herself for not controlling the shiver that ran through her.

"Nanao-chan, let's go sit in the garden." His voice was gentle but reluctant, as though he was afraid she might break just from the suggestion. "It might be warmer out there, and we need to talk." He didn't wait for her reply, and she was already cradled in his warm arms as he shunpoed away.

She didn't really feel like arguing with him anyway – not that she wasn't above trying to kick him while they whirled through the greenery of the Fourth, she did. Her heart just wasn't in it anymore. What was the point anymore? She'd have to leave him soon, and they would never be together again.

_They would never sit under the spring trees, skiving off work, while she pestered him about paperwork. They would never be captain and vice-captain again. She would never be complete again._

Kyouraku-taichou settled beneath a large tree in a quiet, tucked away corner of the large gardens in the fourth division, with her in his lap. The grounds were for patients, who might build their strength or rest here after some grievous injury. For the most part, the gardens were well kept, with neat, smooth walkways for the invalids. The captain managed to find a very old cherry tree, overgrown with all sorts of wild weeds and flowers, well out of sight.

Spring was flirting with summer, and most of the trees had already lost their initial blossoms, but this particular tree still clung to a few its pink petals, as if it had saved its beauty just for them.

Well, Nanao assumed they were pink. They _looked _grey, but since that kind of color didn't occur naturally on trees in this part of the Seireitei (or any other), Nanao felt it was safe to assume.

_The grey-clad trees looked cold and harsh and deeply wrong. It was unnerving._

Her eyes moved downwards, to the soft moss that carpeted the earth they sat on. It was so green, so alive; she couldn't help but be a little awed by it. Green had been her favourite color, before she had met Kyouraku-taichou. It reminded her of life.

She continued to look around, taking in the scenery, enjoying everything that wasn't her small white hospital room. Eventually, her eyes settled on the grey haori around her. She remembered where she was, or, more precisely, who she was sitting on.

"Taichou, this is high unappropriate, I should-" she struggled to get off him, but he held on tightly, and she was overcome by the warmth, and the tiredness in her limbs.

"We need to talk, Nanao." She stilled at his serious voice, and the obvious absence of the ridiculous nickname.

_It was a ridiculous nickname, but it was _her _ridiculous nickname._

"We need to talk about what happened, and what we are going to do about this."

She kept trained her eyes on the grey silk – they would give her away if she looked at him.

"There's nothing to talk about, sir. What's done is done."

"Nanao." His voice was deep, and held that no-nonsense tone he only got when he was deadly serious. The low tones held determination, and anger.

_I hope he's not angry at me._

It was a stupid thought, when she obviously had more important things to worry about – she had just lost her job, and everything she had worked for over the past century; why on earth couldn't she stop thinking about him? Nonetheless, she winced slightly at the tone. He had never been truly angry at her before.

She continued on anyway.

"We cannot change the past, taichou. I will be here for at least another week, Unohana-taichou thinks, and then I will move out of the fukutaichou quarters in the division."

Her voice quivered only a little bit.

"No, Nanao. You're not leaving unless you want to. You will continue working for the eighth division until you choose to leave, my lovely Nanao-chan. I will find a way to make this work. But before that, I need to know why."

" 'Why' what sir?" It was her best imitation of an innocent tone, and it failed miserably. She was better at speaking in such a way as to inspire fear, as her division would attest.

"Nanao, this is ridiculous. We can't keep avoiding this. You nearly killed yourself trying to save me. You nearly _died _because of me. I need to know why."

She didn't know whether she was supposed to be relieved or guilty – the anger was at directed solely at himself. Nanao hated feeling hope at his guilt, if only because it meant she could lie to herself a little longer.

And there was no mistaking the warmth of his embrace or the quickening of her heart for anything but a lie.

Her voice sounded very small as she parroted her past excuse: "as your vice-captain, sir, it is – _was _– my duty to serve you and the Gotei 13 in all my actions, be it through-"

"Nanao, stop lying to me. Stop lying to _yourself._ I love you, and for the first time in years I've found hope that you might feel the same. Don't take that from me, Nanao."

She remained silent and still: he was ... well, _him. _Could she take him seriously, could she ever trust him with her heart? His tone made it clear that he was serious now, but he was ... easily distracted, to say the least_._

Listening to his deep, serious voice telling her everything she'd ever wanted to hear, how could she not believe him? Nanao knew he would never lie about love.

_However much he might joke_ _about love, he would _never_ lie about his feelings._

"You've given me so much, my lovely Nanao-chan. Please, let me love you; please, love me back. We can work through this, together-"

_Oh._

She was instantly filled with anger and self-loathing: how could she be so naive, so gullible, to think that _he _actually loved her.

He wasn't finished, but Nanao didn't care to listen anymore. She had thought he'd been serious, but this, this was worse than mockery or empty words: this was _pity. _She twisted away from him, and he let her go. Nanao felt weak, but forced herself to stand anyways.

_Forced herself to look away so he wouldn't see the tears in her eyes; so he wouldn't recognize the ice in her voice for pain, rather than her usual detachment._

"I am no one's charity case, _sir._"

She felt outrageously cold as she took her first hesitant steps towards the main paths. Nanao had originally intended to stride away, full of pride and confidence (or at least the appearance thereof); with her weak body, all she could manage was a slow sort of shuffle. It took Kyouarku-taichou the better part of ten seconds to catch up with her, and most of that was spent staring off in complete shock.

"Is that what you think this is? You think I'm doing this because I feel bad? Nanao – no, look at me Nanao." She reluctantly looked up at him, fighting the urge to cry.

_Fighting the urge to run away from this mess; to run away and wake up and realize that it was all some nightmare._

"Nanao, I love you. I tell you so every single day, and I don't know what it will take to get you to believe me, but I'll do it." Nanao looked at his sincere eyes, and couldn't stop her tears from finally overflowing.

_How could she fight against his kind smile, his warm brown eyes?_

"You better not leave me, you idiot." Her voice was faint, and she knew she had overexerted herself.

Her tired knees finally gave out beneath her, and he was there to catch her when she fell.

It was the first time she had felt truly warm since waking up.

-

/AN: I fail at romance. Urgh – this will be difficult for me. Was it abysmal? Or passable, even good? Review, give me some shred of hope, or guidance!

Alas, there will not be another chapter for 2-3 weeks, I think. I'm spending nearly a week at a national leadership conference (yay!) without my computer (0o).

Hmm, we come to an interesting challenge: I cannot write lemons. I cannot. It might be my maidenly shyness or the slim remnents of my sense of self-preservation (because if my parents ever searched my laptop, I would be _beyond _dead), but the fact remains that I cannot. Is that okay? Do you mind? Does someone more skilled and daring than I wish to publish a related lemon chapter – if so, contact me, and I'll read over some of your stuff. I'm terribly protective about my story, after all.

Feedback please! And I love all your suggestions – they gave me some great ideas! Keep it up!


	8. Dead Ends and New Beginnings

Nanao wavered in and out of conscience as Kyouraku-taichou carried her back. He moved quickly, obvious concern marring his features as the wind ruffled his hair and pushed back his hat. She knew that she was physically exhausted, but otherwise healthy; the only problem had been the amount of time she had spent sitting up in the garden after so long in a coma.

He knew that too, otherwise she would have been in Fourth already, a veritable army of medics around her.

_He's worried even though he knows I'm okay._

She wriggled more deeply into his arms, into the warmth; trying to fight her heavy eyelids a little longer while she memorized what it was like to be held so lovingly.

"'M'okay, taichou," Nanao mumbled weakly, trying to comfort him.

_Everything is going to be okay now._

-

Nanao felt peaceful as she slowly drifted back into consciousness in the fourth division – she hoped she wasn't forming a habit of waking up here. She could feel the soft weight of Kyouraku-taichou's haori, and smell the cherry blossoms and sake she would always identify with him.

Her eyes fluttered open, and took in the soft dawn light. It was pretty, an ethereal kind of glow that bathed the room in orange and yellow. She was grateful that there was no pink in this sunrise: she wasn't ready to wake up to grey light.

Nanao was alone in her room. She knew that Kyouraku-taichou had spent a lot of time at her bedside in the past – what? Had it really been a month? – but she still felt mildly disappointed to see that he was missing.

_Probably realized his mistake and left the second he thought he could get away without you noticing._

Fear made her blood run cold: had she really chased him away?

Unohana-taichou's kind voice slid through her thoughts.

"Kyouraku-taichou will be back soon, he's gone to finish some paperwork. We both thought you'd sleep longer. How are you feeling?"

"Well rested. I feel a lot better, actually." Nanao felt surprised to find that this was actually the truth – her limbs no longer seemed so heavy, and the throbbing in her leg seemed to have finally died down.

She liked to think that this new-found health was the source of the warm, light feeling in her chest, and not the news that Kyouraku-taichou would be back soon.

_You lie to yourself as though it will change the truth._

"That's excellent," Unohana smiled calmly as she walked over to Nanao's bedside. "If you feel up to it, Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou would like to run some tests." Her white captain's cloak swished gently as she gestured to Nemu, who stood quietly in the doorway.

"Actually, Unohana-taichou, I have gathered enough information from the subject while she was unconscious." Nemu's voice was as quiet and flat as ever, but Nanao still felt a thrill of hope – if anyone could help her, it was the Twelfth.

"Hello, Nemu-san," Nanao sat up slowly as she greeted the young woman. Nemu was quiet, and often came off as disinterested, but Nanao had always enjoyed her company at the Shinigami Women's Association meetings – she liked to think they were friends.

"Ise-san," Nemu nodded in recognition of the greeting, before speaking in her slow, detached voice. "I have been asked to assess you for spirit limb prosthetics. With regards to your Hakusui Soul Sleep and Seketsu Booster, I regret to inform you that you do not qualify for an artificial substitute reiatsu source. As the basic receptors and bodily connections to these particular features seem to have disappeared entirely, we cannot provide you with a prosthetic hakusui or seketsu; or, rather, we could, but we have no way of reconnecting them to your soul in a useful way. If you wish, Kurotsuchi-taichou will commence human experimentation on the subject. Unfortunately, due to your unique situation, there are no methods of testing that seem viable to develop a new technique: success is unlikely."

Nanao felt a shiver of fear and disgust run through her, along with regret.

"No thank you, Nemu-san. I do not wish for any human experimentation."

Nanao felt the small well hope within her dry. Kurotsuchi-taichou was famous for not only creating his daughter, but her reiatsu too. She'd truly thought that he would be able to fix this mess.

She'd truly believed that there was some way out of the hole she had dug for herself.

_Just one more lie that I've told myself._

"Furthermore, Kurotsuchi-taichou has deemed your inability to see the color pink to be a problem within the brain's ability to recognize color, and not a physical disability. We regret to inform you that there is nothing the Twelfth can do. I will now take my leave." Her quiet, monotonous speech ended suddenly, and she bowed before walking slowly out of the room.

"I regret that we will no longer be able to converse during the Shinigami Women's Association meetings, Ise-san. Have a good day."

Nemu left silence in her wake, as Nanao looked at her hands and tried to imagine what she would do with herself. The idea of _really _leaving Eighth hadn't entirely hit her until now. In the back of her mind, she'd always just assumed that they would find a way to work things out.

Had it really only been a few hours since Kyouraku-taichou had held her? Since he'd promised that things would work out, and that he would help her through?

Had she really believed that love could fix this? Had she even believed in his idea of love at all – that he could love her?

After a few more moments of the oppressive silence, Unohana cleared her throat. Nanao looked up suddenly – she had forgotten about the healer's presence. It was a sure sign of her lack of spirit energy: anyone with half a grain of reiatsu could feel the quiet power rolling off Unohana-taichou.

"I am sorry, Nanao-san, I had truly hoped that the Twelfth division would be able to help you."

Nanao kept her eyes trained on her white coverlet, and the grey silk haori, that lay on her bed. She didn't trust herself to speak just yet, but knew that she should reassure the kind healer.

"It's okay, Unohana-taichou." She forced herself to keep her eyes open – blinking created tears, to moisturize the eyes. Maybe if she didn't blink, she wouldn't cry.

The gentle captain walked out, and Nanao sank back into her bed, feeling more alone than ever. She drew the grey haori around herself, and tried to remember sitting with Kyouraku-taichou under the cherry blossoms.

_It was cold._

-

Kyouraku-taichou swept in only a few minutes later, a different cloak hanging from his shoulders: it was a nice shade of green, with vibrant purple petals on it, and not a single stitch of pink. She had seen him wear this haori on a few rare occasions, when all of his pink ones were out for cleaning.

She loved how bright and colourful it was, because it looked right on his shoulders, as exuberant and unprofessional as he was.

_She hated it as a sign that everything had changed._

She was already in his arms, and he was sitting on the hospital bed holding her.

"Retsu-chan told me what happened. It will be okay Nanao-chan. I'm here, I'll always be here for you."

He kept murmuring in her ear, as she concentrated very hard on not crying; she'd cried more in the past week then she had in the past ten years, and the time for tears was surely past.

_The time for tears was past, but she still needed something to hold onto._ "

She was tempted to beg him not to leave, but was able to retain the shattered slivers of her pride; she choked back the words. Instead, she clung to him tightly. With him there, holding her tight, telling her that he loved her and always would, she felt warm.

She felt loved.

To finally give in to him, to _this; _it was something the old her never could have done; and not only because she was his fukutaichou then. If she needed to change now, she needed to take this with her.

_There is no light in this darkness, but what you take with you._

A cold voice echoed in her head – it reminded her of death. Maybe it was; it felt the same as the intuitive knowledge that had haunted her in the past life.

Maybe a piece of her was still dead, and she had brought the cold, black abyss with her.

_Maybe I've changed more than anyone realized._

_-_

It was sometime before she felt she could talk without breaking down, and when she did, her voice was very small. She spoke slowly, and carefully selected her words, but her voice finally had some confidence behind it again.

"Tomorrow, I will be well enough to be discharged. I will go back to Eighth, gather my belongings, and leave." Kyouraku opened his mouth, but she shook her head: she had made up her mind, and she couldn't turn back now. "I will stay with Matsumoto until I can find a job; Unohana-taichou said that the sou-taichou would provide me with any post I desired, outside the Gotei 13. I... I'm not sure what I'll do yet, but I will do something."

Kyouraku-taichou was silent as he held her, staring into her eyes. When he spoke, he did so slowly and quietly, as if to demonstrate how serious he was.

"If you can't get a job in the Gotei 13, I would like to offer you a post as my personal secretary – you can help me with my paperwork, like you always do." She resisted the urge to roll her eyes at his teasing tone: 'help' was a bit of an understatement. "And, although you might feel it is too early for us, I would like you to move in with me."

Nanao felt her eyes widen at the idea. It seemed very sudden, and she had never heard of any of his previous flings living with him; maybe he truly was serious?

She nodded slowly. "I'll think about it."

He kissed her forehead.

"You can do whatever you want, but you have to remember that I'll stay with you. We'll work something out, and you can stay in the Court of Pure Souls for as long as you want; for as long as you'll have this old captain." His eyes twinkled, and then he was very serious again, as he held her close.

"I love you Nanao, and you will always have a place here."

She leaned on him, as they lay side by side, with his arms around her. Her hands gently traced the grey haori on the bed, fingering the white clouds within the grey sky.

She wasn't ready to say it yet, but he knew. He knew, and she knew that he knew, and that was enough for now.

_I love you too._

"I'm not going anywhere," she smiled, and her eyes closed as she relaxed against him.

As she started drifting into sleep, somewhere in that foggy region between waking and unconsciousness, she could have sworn she saw the grey haori turn pink, if only for a second.

/AN: The opinions are in, and after much consideration and finger-nail-nibbling, I have decided that there will be (insert sigh of relief) no lemon; **maybe** hints of behind-the-scenes citrus to come, but no lemon.

So... Good? Bad? Downright ugly? Awesomesauce, or epic fail? Review, and tell me! I've said I love reviews and suggestions before, but I don't know if you really understand how special they all are to me – please, keep it up! It's very encouraging! Plus, I like hearing what you guys want to do: make a suggestion!

Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed for the past chapters, especially sunfire1108, who wrote the longest, most helpful PM ever – thanks! )


	9. Into the black

When she finally opened her eyes, Nanao could make out a faint orange glow coming through her window. The sun hadn't risen yet, but it was definitely making a start. Kyouraku-taichou was sleeping in the grey chair next to her again, his straw hat tilted over his eyes and his chest rising and falling with his slow, deep breaths.

His hand was warm in hers.

The air felt different today: cleaner, warmer. It was probably just that Nanao was finally off the pain medication, but there was something to be said for the new sense of clarity and direction that filled her.

Today would be a day of new beginnings; she would leave fourth today. She would go to the human world, to look for Urahara Kisuke. He was her only remaining hope to get out this mess; considering his crazy methods, that was certainly saying something about her desperation. Then, after that... then, she needed to go back to Rukongai.

Nanao wasn't sure why yet, but she knew that she had to go back to her childhood home in the 42nd district. Ever since she had woken up from - well, whatever that darkness had been, it seemed far too melodramatic to call it death - she had been having those strange flashes of knowledge. Like intuition, but stronger; these were not feelings, or sneaking suspicions, but rather answers handed to her.

_I just need to figure out what the questions are._

Guiltily, her eyes darted back to the sleeping figure of her captain. She couldn't tell him, of course, he would insist on coming with her. This was something she had to do alone, for reasons she wasn't quite sure of yet.

She would wait until he left for his captain's meeting later this morning – she had heard Unohana-taichou discussing it with Hanatarou yesterday. It was the annual funding review, a long, dry meeting that even Kyouraku-tiachou couldn't miss.

It was the perfect distraction, as though some greater force wanted her to proceed with her plan. He wouldn't be able to trace her, without her reiatsu; no one would be able to. If she wanted, she could disappear from all of their lives overnight. If she was stronger, she would have: it would be better to start anew, rather than burdening her friends as she was bound to do living a useless life in the Seireitei.

It was still an option; to run, to leave, to go far away and never look back.

_It should be the only option._

-

Dressed in her old shihakusho, Nanao had walked quietly out of the fourth division's main medical center, blinking up at the sun. She looked around furtively, as if expecting him to come barrelling out of the bushes demanding where she was heading, but Kyouraku-taichou was sufficiently occupied with his meeting.

She still felt guilty about leaving him like this, especially thinking of the vague note she had left on her hospital bed.

_-I've gone to think about some things, I'll be back later. Don't worry. Nanao._

It was a low blow, to leave him without an explanation after disappearing like this, especially after all he had done for her over the past few weeks, but she wasn't sure what she was supposed to say about her journey. She didn't even know why she needed to go back to Rukongai, she just knew that it had to be done.

It was much easier to understand why she needed to go to Karakura alone, she hadn't needed to be told that.

It was hard to believe that the world had continued on while she was in the hospital; everything seemed so different, Nanao felt as though everything she had known was different, gone. To the Gotei 13, however, nothing had really changed.

The war still waged, skirmishes daily and battles at least once a week. They continued to be remarkably lucky with the safety of the upper officers – mostly all of the captains and vice-captains remained in fighting form; only a few were injured enough to need rest, and no one had died yet.

_I'm the first one to leave the fight._

That was, of course, only among the first and second seats of the division. Seated officers now had a lifeline of about a month on duty, if they were lucky. The mortality rate for the unseated members was far worse. There was no way she could continue to monopolize Kyouraku-taichou's time when the division needed his so badly; for all that he was a lazy drunk, he was one of the strongest captains in the Seireitei.

_And you're just a lost cause._

Nanao brushed her shinigami robes, smoothing out the wrinkles, as she heard the training group from the academy. Increasingly younger students went on real training missions, and older students were now required to take responsibility for the safety of pluses in war free zones. This particular class could only be in their first or second year, and they were led by a fifth year, instead of a seated division member as was customary.

They would be grateful for the help of a seated officer, if no one knew of her condition yet. They would recognize her rank by the insigna on her armband, but none of the students should know her personally, should know that she was officially out of commission. She needed to get to the real world, and this was the only way possible without her reiatsu.

_They will think that I am masking it, no one should suspect anything._

She tied her fukutaichou armband securely over her sleeves, and listened in the shadows of the thick trees that surrounded the academy.

"For many of you, this will be your first mission to the real world. A small band of hollows has been spotted outside of Karakura town, a crucial position in the war effort. Although we will not be heading to an active zone, you will need to stay on your guard, and ensure that at least one member of every group has a headpiece to call for backup. The groups will be as follows-"

Nanao listened carefully to the names of the leaders and the classes involved. The leading student had a soft voice, but it carried well over the silence of the group. Nanao could hardly suppress a shiver – classes were always excited, talkative, and nervous on their first mission. There were always a few arrogant boys taking bets on how many hollows they could kill, or a few girls gossiping about the latest hollow rumours, and how they really couldn't afford any injuries what with the weekend coming up and all. This silence carried no anticipation, only fear – the situation appeared to have become more desperate during her stay in the hospital.

"Classes 1A, 2C, and 2D?" Nanao stepped forward and noted the looks of panic on the faces of the students. As they noted her uniform and arm band, relief filled the air. "I have been sent to supervise the mission, due to the recent activity of enemy forces. I will only accompany you to the site, after that I have some business to attend to."

They didn't question her as she explained her role, and blindly accepted her decision to let the fifth year lead. Her icy tones demanded respect more than her rank, and leading others was something she'd always done well.

_You belong here, at the head of a shinigami team._

She ignored her thoughts, trying to remember that the fifth year was in charge. The girl looked too meek and scared to lead properly, and Nanao couldn't help but wonder if all the more competent students were put into groups for the more active areas. She focused on the students again, and motioned for one to open the senkai gate. The scheduled cleaning of the tunnels had already taken place, but the group moved quickly between worlds, aware that this connection was an easy target from Hueco Mundo.

It only took twenty minutes for the group to arrive on the outskirts of Karakura town. The area seemed fairly heavily wooded, which was why it was not a more active war zone. Aizen wanted to take the city, not the rural outlaying areas; besides, fighting in cities could be much more advantageous for sneak attacks. It was easier to hide a group of hollows in a building than behind a tree.

"I will need to leave you here; I have some urgent business to attend to in the city." Nanao noted the terror that crossed the faces of the young shinigami in front of her. "This is a quiet area. You will be safe as long as you stay in teams and control your reiatsu. Stay on your guard."

She marched off haughtily, trying to mimic Kuchiki-taichou; no one would ever contradict him. She felt like a complete fool, but it must have worked, because none of the students requested that she stay or provide more back up.

Nanao waited until she was a reasonable distance away before stopping to consider the appropriate direction to take. Most of Karakura's residents were actually in an outer area of the soul society, but Urahara Kisuke had apparently chosen to remain in the city. Although the Captain Commander had refused to rescind his exile, Kisuke's store served as a major base for the Gotei 13's forces. She would find it easily enough once she got into town.

A soft noise to her left had her whirling around, hands raised to brandish some kidou, a spell on her lips, before she realized how useless that was. She was alone, in a war zone, without any method of defence.

_At least you don't have any reiatsu to prey on – a hollow probably wouldn't bother eating you if they came across you._

It was a cold comfort to know that the creatures that could – _would_ - kill her probably wouldn't eat her afterwards. Still, she had absolutely no spiritual power – there were rocks with more energy than her. She could only be detected if a hollow actually saw her.

Keeping low to the ground, Nanao crept over to some nearby bushes. The sounds of the forest echoed around her quietly, the occasional hooting owl or quiet whisper of leaves in the wind. Every so often, a tree would groan softly in the wind; that must have been the sound that she had heard earlier.

It took at least half an hour for Nanao to convince herself to move, and when she did so, it was very quietly. As silent as a shadow, and as quickly as she could manage, Nanao took off in the direction of the city.

/AN: I am soooooooo sorry it took so long to write this. is grovelling, on the floor, for forgiveness there is so much going on right now, and it's only going to get worse, what with exams and graduating from high school. Seriously though, once I'm done, I'll be better at updating. I promise.

Thank you soooooo much, for reviewing. You guys are my heroes.

I don't know how I feel about this chapter yet, but I finally think I know where I'm going with it. Review, tell me what you think, any suggestions (any opinions on what Nanao's zanpakuto should be? It might make a flashback-y entrance...maybe...anyway, give me your ideas, mine all seem to suck). So, for this chapter: yay or nay? Review!


	10. For the Gifts You Can't Take Back

It took Nanao at least an hour of creeping through the woods to reach the city limits, and progress only got slower as she left the shelter of the shady trees. It was still dark out, but the moon cast a silvery glow over Karakura that illuminated too much for comfort. As Nanao stalked between buildings and alleyways, towards Urahara Shoten –east, always east – she tried to concentrate only on her path, but her mind couldn't help but wander to her captain.

It was easy – too easy - to picture the thousand different possible reactions from the man she had left behind. Would he be sad; the light in his eyes dying as he realized that he had been deserted? Or angry, that she had betrayed his trust, his reiatsu spiking and his fists clenching with rage? Nanao hated to picture him upset, but a small, selfish part of her thought that it was rather better than the alternative. It broke her heart to wonder if he had simply accepted it, going back to the division to nap and drink, continuing on with his laissez-faire lifestyle.

"It doesn't matter," Nanao muttered under her breath, quiet even as she forgot the need for silence. "It shouldn't matter."

_But the two aren't the same._

Nanao tried to shake her head softly, as though she could ban the thoughts that made her feet stumble and her heart freeze. She was quickly distracted, however, when she tripped over an abandoned trash can in a very un-Nanao moment of clumsiness.

The clanging that filled the small street drowned out her muttered cursing, but not the shrill shriek of the nearby hollow as it flew towards her. Eyeing the beast – small, but large enough to do some real damage to an unarmed soul – fresh oaths left her lips, quiet and steady, as if to replace the kidou that was now out of her grasp.

She was already moving, back through the alleyway she had come from, down a side street, over a fence. The city blurred around her, but without the flash-steps she had come to rely on, Nanao knew it was only a matter of time before the hollow caught up. Indeed, its voice sounded closer, not further, when she slowed to try and gauge the distance. Her only hope would be to try and make it to Urahara before she got caught...

She dashed into a small opening between two houses. Another turn at the end of the passageway, over a bridge, through a small park: it was still gaining ground. This was hardly surprising; what was more interesting was the fact that the small creature hadn't caught her yet. The hollow was surely very young, and foolish, the kind any first year student could take on easily.

A vice captain could practically cleanse this level of soul – for it scarcely deserved the term _hollow_ - with a sneeze, but she was running. This, more than anything yet, made Nanao realize her position, and the finality of it all. Even if she managed to escape this _bug_, (and she wouldn't), the end had come and gone for her. She was just another helpless soul, and she probably always would be.

Despair pulled her down just before the hollow did, and both her emotions and the pale mask loomed over her, large and insurmountable obstacles. It was kind of poetic, she thought, struggling uselessly against the dark claws that gripped her sides. Like the hollow was the embodiment of defeat or some equally philosophical symbol. Of course, Nanao wasn't really sure how to continue the analogy when the giant mask split cleanly in two, and she found herself fighting nothing more than air. A familiar voice had her looking towards the shinigami responsible.

"Now, I know they were putting students in the field, but they just keep getting more helpless!" Matsumoto tossed her pretty hair over her shoulder and sheathed her long blade. "Drawing your zanpakuto is a good start, hun. Remember that next time." The young woman bent over to offer Nanao a hand, but Rangiku froze in shock when she realized just who she was standing over.

"Nanao?" Matsumoto's voice was quiet, and she seemed uncharacteristically stunned. The silence lengthened, and neither woman was sure where to start. Nanao could hardly blame her, the whole situation was pretty strange; it wasn't often you saw an invalid former vice captain running around a war zone. Her friend always knew what to say though, and Nanao relaxed as Matsumoto winked and hauled her up from the ground. "You better have some really good gossip to go along with this!"

-

Nanao sat quietly, her legs folded neatly beneath her, as she sipped the green tea Matsumoto had poured out for her. The long, low Japanese style table they sat at was in a homey room belonging to the third member of their impromptu gathering, one Orihime Inoue.

Inoue-san had been one of the invading ryoka so many months ago. Although Nanao had never met her, she seemed close with Matsumoto, who apparently slept at the girl's house while staying in Karakura these three months past on the latest mission. Inoue was one of the perhaps three or four humans who remained in the city, which certainly said something about her abilities and trustworthiness.

What it said exactly, Nanao couldn't be sure.

"So, Nanao, how have you been? Last I heard, you were still too sick even for visitors, (which is why I didn't come, did you get my flowers?) let alone to take up missions. I am sooooo glad you're better, of course, – I need someone to go bar hopping with, those clowns from the eleventh are so dull! You should have seen Yumichika the other night..."

Matsumoto continued chattering, filling up the silence with her easy laugh, but all the while watching with shrewd eyes. Something was wrong, and she knew it; however, she also knew Nanao, and the defeated expression on her face demanded that she have some space.

Nanao took another sip of the tea, and welcomed the warmth that seemed to spread to her very bones. She was always cold lately... She returned Rangiku's gaze, eyes narrowing whenever the conversation looked like it might turn back to herself.

Orihime's brow wrinkled in confusion, trying to make sense of the strange tone in Matsumoto's voice as she eyed the silent, shivering new-comer.

"...and then, poor little taichou, he just had to accept the challenge, but he was soooo mad, you should have seen his cute little expression!" Rangiku laughed, and Nanao knew that her moments of peace were suddenly up. Matsumoto's happy tone remained, but now it held an air of seriousness. "But speaking of cute captains and drunken outings, where is Shunsui? He owes me some sake!"

"I imagine the silly man is napping, for all that he should be doing paperwork." She rolled her eyes, hoping she looked nonchalant and confident, for all that she felt the opposite.

_Would his new vice-captain be able to find him when he went to the roof for his naps? They really couldn't afford to get behind schedule..._

Matsumoto's eyes narrowed slightly, and Nanao knew she hadn't missed anything from her answer: neither the quiver in her voice, or the slightly wistful tone.

"Is that so? He must be worried about you, he doesn't usually send his seated officers into war zones without backup."

Nanao heard what Matsumoto had not said. _He doesn't let _you _go to war zones without _him_._

There was another pause, and Nanao traced the pattern of leaves on her small cup.

Orihime frowned at them.

"Nanao..." The charade was gone now, Matsumoto finally speaking softly and without jest. Nanao, who had known Matsumoto since their time at the academy together – both children – knew that this seriousness, however rare, was closer to Matsumoto's true self then any of her fake smiles or ridiculous antics. Underneath all the games, she was just like any other young woman from Rukongai; she had suffered, she had loved, she had lost.

_She's worried about me..._

Nanao sighed: she was such a sucker for Matsumoto's guilt trips. It was easy to defend against the bluster and bravado, but against real concern, Nanao was helpless. It was time to get this over with.

"I'm not a seated officer anymore, actually." Matsumoto's eyebrows went up, her blue eyes wide.

"You resigned?"

"No."

"Promoted?"

"No."

Matsumoto was reaching now, but she tried anyway. "Transferred, then? Did the kidou corps finally get you?"

"The kidou corps doesn't have any openings right now. Plus, the captain is the creepiest person in Soul Society." Only with Matsumoto could Nanao be relaxed enough to refer to her superiors so informally.

_Not that it really matters anymore. What will they do, fire me?_

"Then you are still his vice-captain. Don't know what you think you did wrong, but he isn't going to fire you... And no one is creepier then Mayuri."

"The Central 46 has already decided, actually. Besides, you need reiatsu to be a shinigami."

They settled into silence again, as Matsumoto quietly sorted through their conversation and the rumours she had no doubt been hearing all week, some obviously more reliable then she had given them credit for.

"You came to see Urahara."

Nanao nodded.

And suddenly Matsumoto was happy and outgoing and herself again, and the grim conversation was done with, and everything became normal again.

"Well, then there's really no problem at all - Orihime can fix just about anything! Except maybe that haircut, Nanao, you really should do something about it! Have you met my hairdresser? He does magic with hair, little place right down by that bookstore you love, maybe you've heard of him? Well, just last month I-"

Orihime blinked, more confused than ever, but glad that both the shinigami were clearly relaxing. Genuine smiles graced both their faces, and she poured some more tea.

-

Shunsui smoothed out the message in his hands again, reread the faint ink.

_-I've gone to think about some things, I'll be back later. Don't worry. Nanao._

Don't worry – what a silly directive that was. She could be anywhere, she was defenceless, she was alone. Again, he cast out his reiatsu, looking for some hint as to where she was. After so many years of working with her – of protecting her, of loving her – he had grow attuned to her power signature, could sense it from miles away.

He hated reaching out for her and finding nothing, always nothing. She didn't have any spirit energy to sense, or at least, that was what he kept repeating to himself. It was better than the idea that something had happened...

He shuddered at the thought, and drew his haori closer around his shoulders. Everyone thought his fukutaichou was cold, but without her the office lost its warmth. The pink cloak still smelled of his Nanao-chan, she had worn it last. Had it been only yesterday, that she was in the fourth division?

_That she was safe, and with him?_

He would have been off looking for her if he could. Any other time, and he would have had all of the eighth looking for her. But the war raged on, and the division – _their_ division – was in shambles. They needed a leader as they pulled themselves together, as they fought the advancing hollows.

With a wry grin, he pulled another stack of documents towards himself, and folded the note carefully before placing it back in his robes. She would come back, (because she had to come back) and she would be proud of his work – just like a real captain, one of those responsible ones she was always nagging him about. Maybe he'd even wear his uniform properly, for the occasion...

Barely a minute later, he put his pen down with a sigh; as distractions went, paperwork sucked. He pulled the note out of his pocket again, trying again to gain some clue to where she had gone.

-

When Nanao woke up the next morning, on a futon in Inoue's small living room, she was hardly surprised to see Matsumoto already gone. They had discussed the details of Nanao's situation in between gossip on the latest Gotei 13 scandals, and decided that the girl would give healing a try after a good night's sleep. Like the small talk of last night, Rangiku had left early to comfort Nanao, to calm her, to make like this was a small matter of little consequence, that there was no doubt in the outcome.

It wasn't working very well, but it was nice to know that she was trying.

"Are you ready?" Inoue-san lingered in the doorway, a cup of steaming tea in each hand, and a sunny smile on her face. "We should probably start early, sometimes healings can take a while, and I've never helped with a problem like this."

Nanao nodded. "Of course. What should I...?"

Inoue knelt next to her, handing her one of the cups. "Here, have some. It always wakes me up in the morning! Anyways, you can just stay lying down, if that's okay with you..."

The young woman folded herself up, pulling her long awkward limbs in until she was sitting cross-legged with her hands in her lap. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply, and Nanao looked down at the tea quickly. She wasn't quite sure how Inoue's powers worked, but a meditation with one's zanpakuto was a very personal experience. Whatever her equivalent was, Nanao didn't feel right intruding on that.

Or at least, that was why she had started looking at the tea; now she was just curious. Was that orange zest in there? That would certainly wake a person up, yes. And ... _leek_? Was this why Matsumoto had made the tea last night?

A faint blue glow stole of her, and Nanao looked up from her study of the ... stew, for lack of better term. The strange, pulsing field was roughly oval, all around her body, with two small things on either end – as a child, she would have called them fairies, but she had given up bedtime stories long ago.

She had given up bedtime stories when she had lost someone to read them to her.

"I reject." Inoue's voice was quiet, but strong beside her. What a strangely appropriate phrase, that. 'I reject'.

Not 'heal", not 'correct'. She wasn't trying to make things better, she was trying to refuse, to deny this: as though through sheer force of will, she could discard this reality, could make something better of her own imagining. It took more strength then the young woman let on, to defy the world around her, Nanao could see that; could see how she bit her lip in concentration, her hands shaking in front of her, stubbornly repeating the words every so often when the color started to drain from the blue field or her already pale face.

"I reject." As though she saw all the possible outcomes the world offered her, and chose to decline, waiting for something better.

_But do I also reject this?_

Did she have the will to refuse this fate for herself?

The answer came with dreadful clarity, as Nanao realized what she had been missing all this time.

_For myself, yes; but not for him._

This wasn't a simple case of drained reiatsu. Her power was gone from her, was somewhere else; Inoue could probably bring it back, could probably force the universe to rearrange itself in the way it had been, to reject this reality. But if she had lost her saketsu and hakusei in her taichou, if that had been the price to bring him back, wouldn't reversing the damage also reverse the good?

"I reject," Orihime mumbled again, somewhere far beyond her.

No one else would be affected this way; Inoue had always healed those with injured limbs, with drained energy – had always worked off something that was already there. To take something back from where it was needed wasn't healing but _moving_... she could see Kyouraku-taichou in her mind's eye, lying on the couch in the office, taking the occasional swig from the nearby bottle of sake; could see him slumping, lifeless, as she took back the last gift she'd given him, as all the energy and power drained out of him.

"I reject."

This was why she couldn't go back. Why Unohana couldn't fix her – _Urahara wouldn't be able to either_, she knew it with a cold certainty_._ They could only ever mend broken things, they couldn't grow a new soul chain for her. Not when she already had one, in perfect health, somewhere near Kyouraku-taichou's, keeping his own spirit energy safe and healthy. Unohana had said that, hadn't she? "_Both are considered necessary to life in the soul ... That you are still breathing is a miracle in itself__."_ You only needed a seketsu to become a shinigami, but you needed a hakusui to live, in this world or any other known to them. She still had it, which was why she was still alive. Her spirit energy was in Kyouraku-taichou, but it was still hers.

She could take it back whenever she wanted.

"I reject." Inoue's voice was starting to shake now, and Nanao wondered how long they had been doing this for.

Her voice sounded small to her own ears, but Nanao knew there could be no other option. "I accept."

-

It took a few minutes – or hours, or seconds – for Nanao to regain her senses. The blue light faded from her eyes, revealing Orihime, slumped against the nearby sofa.

"Inoue-san, are you okay?"

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Nanao-san, I tried, but I can't heal you... I don't know why! I'm sorry, so sorry..."

Nanao felt terrible, watching the teenager fight tears; she obviously blamed herself. The role of healer was difficult, and a younger Nanao had refused it partly because she wouldn't have been able to save everybody. Inoue's powers were vital to the shinigami force here on Earth, powerful and unlike anything in history from before Yamamoto-taichou's time. But power was a difficult thing to bear, what did it cost her, to sit beside the dying and hope that what she did was enough? To be greeted by anxious friends and family, to be told again and again not with words but with heartbroken smiles and tears and silent gestures that she _could not_ fail?

What did it cost her to smile every day, and watch the ones she loved fight, while she stayed behind, hoping that enough of them would be brought back for her to fix?

"It's okay. It's not you, Inoue-san. I just can't accept this healing, I see that now. I'm sorry for making you try." Nanao felt awkward – she wasn't used to comforting others, not strangers. She didn't make people feel better, she listened to their problems and then offered solutions and advice; Inoue's problem had her stumped. "I'm, um, really glad you tried. Thank you."

Another quiet minute passed, with Inoue crying and Nanao wondering if she should offer her a hug, but settled for her usual method of patching up problems among the younger squad members.

"Should I make some tea for you?"

"No, no thank you." Inoue got up, wiping a few stray tears away. "I feel better now anyways – thanks Nanao-san! You should call me Orihime-chan, by the way. Here, I'll go make you some breakfast!" With a bright smile and a flick of her long, bright hair, the girl was moving out of the room.

So the similarities between Inoue-san – Orihime-chan? – and Matsumoto were deeper then the ample chest and the amber hair. They both smiled, and joked, refusing to burden others with their problems. Maybe that's why Nanao felt so comfortable around her, because she was so like her old friend? Well, if she turned out anything like Matsumoto, she would be a very formidable woman in five years down the road.

Nanao felt a little bad for thinking like that - she would never wish Matsumoto's misfortunes on anyone. But if the small shrine in the other corner and the darkness hiding in her eyes were any measure, Inoue had already seen her fair share of hearbreak. Then again, so had Nanao; so had all the Gotei 13.

War was a terrible thing...

Wait, did Orihime say she was going to make _breakfast? _Another quick glance at the tea-stew had Nanao up and moving to the kitchen.

"It's alright, In-er, Orihime-chan! I'm not that hungry, really!"

AN: So it took forever and a half. Rest assured that I have had good reasons, a myriad of good reasons. And I lost my internet for two weeks. And this might be the longest chapter yet, to make up for it

Sigh, so I keep changing strategies – it's like this story has a mind of its own, because this is totally not where I was going. Plus, I was worried that it was becoming too much like another (much more awesome) story someone is currently writing. Thanks to everyone for your reviews and opinions, you guys are awesome, and my heroes. And awesome.

I hope Nanao doesn't seem to OOC to you guys...she's just in different surroundings, and she's having a tough time right now.

As always, I am a vain and petty creature who needs reviews. And advice, because it doesn't look like I can plan anything out for myself; so send any suggestions or opinions you might have. Did you like it, hate it, or fall asleep?


	11. You Wander Around these Empty Memories

The tall grass Nanao stalked through was greyer then she remembered. As a child, these meadows had seemed to go on forever, full of life and potential adventures, a sea of green and gold. While the sheer size of the flat plains dividing districts 69 and 70 was unchanged, she now knew that one could get from one end to the other in under ten minutes, if they used shunpo. The fields weren't any smaller, only her opinion of them.

The grass and weeds swayed in the wind, less vibrant than in her memory. Had she imagined the colors, all those years ago, with eyes accustomed to the dark mud of Rukongai? Or was it as bright as ever, only appearing as it did because she couldn't see pink? There could be plenty of bright flowers, only registering as grey because of what she had lost...

_Maybe I've seen too much to go back to pretty flowers and childhood innocence._

Nanao had been part of one of the several groups of children that had wandered the streets of Rukongai, traveling between districts looking for food. At the time, she had wondered if it wouldn't be easier to stay in one place, and grow their own food instead of foraging; now she knew how impractical that was. Anything stationary was a target; anything that couldn't be packed up in a hurry wasn't worth having. They kept moving, never staying anywhere long enough to get to know people, or, more to the point, to make serious enemies. That didn't always keep them safe though.

Their numbers stayed fairly constant – about ten or twelve children, ranging in age from four to fifteen – but the faces were different every year, every couple of months. People died in Rukongai, fresh arrivals replaced them. It was a fact of life, something everyone learned. Something no one ever forgot, even after most of the names and faces faded from memory.

Those forgotten were always a lighter burden then those that were remembered, mourned. She hated remembering the individual deaths; far better were the times when the children left on their own accord, although the betrayal had still stung. Nanao had left like that, after they had been attacked near 62nd – you could only see so much death before you needed to get out. The shocked faces of the group she had left behind hadn't hurt as much as she had expected them to– only a few had been there as long as she had, and by then, she had known better then to get close to people.

It was one of the reasons why the Rukongai children made such good shinigami. They all ready knew how to let go of the people around them...

Come to think of it, her little band was probably still wandering around. It was strange to think of it as _her_ group – none of the original members would still remain. They didn't have a name, or a goal, just a bunch of children trying to survive.

Would she run into such a crowd?

Her favourite times had been when they were traveling across the large, empty stretches of land that separated some districts, like these fields. It would take days, sometimes weeks, walking with the other youths, trying to find edible plants or other travelers who might be – _ahem ­– _convinced to share their food. It was then that their little band had been the most at ease, for few threats could hide in these grasses. They rarely lost anyone on the plains – maybe that was why it was such an important place to Nanao.

The main battle was expected to take place in Karakura, but if the city fell, these fields would start seeing battles of their own, as Aizen moved to take the Seireitei. Nanao shivered slightly, seeing in her mind the fields she had played in flooded with blood and bodies. It brought her back to that day, only a few weeks – months? – ago, when Kyouraku-taichou had first been injured. The battle had taken place far outside even the furthest reaches of Rukongai, near the border between worlds... Nanao felt herself grow cold remembering the terrible day: the grey skies, the bloody mud.

The way _he_ had fallen...

The fields around her no longer looked so pleasant.

_Maybe I should have stayed in Karakura..._

Matsumoto had all but begged her to stay, and Nanao probably should have gone to see Urahara, if only to be thorough. She knew, deep down, that he would be unable to help her, but it felt wrong to leave any avenue unexplored... Then Rangiku had let slip that Kyouraku-taichou was in the living world, ready to lead the division against Aizen, and Nanao knew she had to go. Matsumoto had opened the gate for her.

"You can't run away forever," her friend had said, her blue eyes wide and serious; and she was right after all. But Nanao needed time: time to decide what to do next, time to decide what their relationship would be like now that the same familiar roles they had played out for the last several decades were gone. Maybe she should take him up on all those advances...

She had never before allowed herself to consider him serious. He was Kyouraku-taichou, and no woman was foolish enough to take him seriously. He was lazy, and easily distracted, and would drive her to an early grave; he loved bad poetry, or watching sakuras bloom, and he could always get around her stubborn rules and regulations... He was all wrong for her.

More than that, he was _himself_: honest and kind and good to the core, far out of reach for someone plain and cold like her. That he looked good in everything, (and very probably in nothing), just seemed redundant, one more reason he was all wrong for her, plain old Nanao.

But he had held her, and promised her that he would always be there for her, and as idiotic as it was, she believed him. She trusted him, completely, and that was the real problem. To have come so far, done so much for him, only to find that he had moved on, had forgotten her, had only been joking... Where the war hadn't killed her, hope surely would.

_You can't run forever, but there's nothing wrong with getting a good head start..._

Her feet kept moving without falter, carrying her slowly through the tall grass.

-

Shunsui glared at his friend. Glared seriously, with anger and betrayal in his eyes: it was a rare sight, and a lesser woman would have quivered under such a gaze.

"So she was here, in Karakura?" The long, carmel hair caught the early sun as Rangiku nodded. "And instead of telling me, you sent her _back_ to soul society?" Another nod of the head – she knew he was angry, she almost never gave such straight answers.

Or maybe she just pitied the panicked tone of his voice.

"Not into the Seireitei, which would be _safe_, but into Rukongai?"

"She didn't want me to tell you. Besides, she'll be safer there then here – the soutaichou is expecting the main attack to come any day now. And she'd want you to focus on the division, they need their captain. She's fine, Shunsui."

The large man sighed, and lay back down on the roof where they had been sitting, enjoying the evening sake. Rangiku did have a point – Nanao would hamstring him if he left the division, during this crucial time in the war, to follow her. Rukongai wasn't the safest place, but even without her spirit energy she had a few tricks up her sleeve, and would know which parts of the Soul Society to avoid.

_But if anything happened to her..._

"Ahhhh, Ran-chan. Just tell me next time, okay?" He pulled the straw hat over his eyes, blocking out the light from the sinking sun, and the curious gaze of his drinking buddy: to anyone else, it would have looked like he was sleeping.

But Matsumoto knew better: she saw his fists, tightly clenched, as he tried to breathe deeply.

-

It was late in the afternoon, and Nanao had been walking all day – she had forgotten just how large these fields were. Every ten districts or so, there was a major gap like this, to ensure that the upper wards remained clean. It was a hard journey to make, and armed guards patrolled the borders. Or rather, they did nearer to the Seireitei – there was nothing worth protecting past the 40th.

Her breathing slowed as she sat down, cross-legged, trying to focus on her inner consciousness. Nanao had meditated every day for as long as she could remember, since she had first found her zanpakuto at the Academy. The routine had been comfortable, not a chore: everyday she had spoken to her blade, her protector, her friend.

Now there was only silence.

The landscape of her soul had looked something like this, like the plains she had spent the best years of her childhood in – the only years of her childhood. Nanao had been young for a shinigami, lucky to escape the streets of Rukongai before they killed her, but ago didn't matter: soul reapers were soldier, not innocents, not children.

Nanao remained still, sitting for hours, but it was hopeless – the voice of her sword did not come; the waving grass around her was that of the dividing lands, and not of her inner sanctum.

She could tell, because there were no cherry trees here.

-

They gathered around the small wooden table in Urahara-Shoten, trying to look important as they knelt next to each other, trying not to brush shoulders with those on either side. They were captains, leaders of the war; Urahara seemed to enjoy making them feel ridiculous. Yamamoto-soutaichou looked particularly silly, as he was hardly any shorter sitting down then he was standing up, and still seemed to need his staff.

Shunsui looked around the circle, the shadow of his wide hat hiding his eyes. Most of the captains were there, only Mayuri and acting-captain Kira had been left behind, to monitor battle conditions and control the fighting force that would protect the Seireitei should Aizen try to stage more than one attack at a time.

The soutaichou's voice sounded tired as they started their strategic meeting. "Our scouts have reported some movement south of the city..." Shunsui tuned out almost immediately. Many of the other captains remained sharp eared, but him and Jyuu had seen more than one great battle in their time. The drill was always the same, and any important details would be sent out later in a memo.

His mind wandered, and he was hardly surprised at where it ended up; Nanao had occupied all of his thoughts for the last few days. Just when it seemed like things had been getting better, she'd disappeared so suddenly. He'd known that she wanted to leave Seireitei for a while, to adjust to her new state, but so unexpectedly, without company (_without him)_... He couldn't help but shudder.

Rukongai was dangerous for anyone, and Nanao was still healing. She'd gained back most of her strength, but her leg had still been wounded pretty badly, and she ahd broken several ribs. Retsu couldn't do much for her injuries either, as Nanao's body would no longer accept the healing reiatsu. Without a hakusui or a seketsu, the body just didn't react to spirit energy the same way.

_If she was hurt again, there would be little we could do to save her..._

He shuddered again at the thought, and tried to return his focus to the captain commander – even the dry monologue was better than thinking about his Nanao-chan, alone, hurt.

"It seems the twelfth division has reported a large group of hollows entering Rukongai this afternoon, between districts 69 and 70. They may be led by an espada, or one the upper fraccion. The troops remaining in the Soul Society cannot leave the Seireitei, as this may be a trick to lure them out, leaving the Gotei headquarters undefended. One of you will need to take a battalion back, but return quickly once the job is done. This action signifies that Aizen is planning to launch his main attack soon, and we should be alert here for any changes. Do I have any volunteers?"

It took a minute for Shunsui's brain to catch up, to understand the words. There were hollows loose in Rukongai; Nanao was in Rukongai. Where had Matsumoto said she'd opened the gate at?

Shunsui was on his feet and walking out the door before anyone else could put a word in. "I'll leave now." The pink haori whirled dramatically as he raced to his troops.

_His Nanao-chan was in danger._

-

It was close to dusk, the sun beginning to dip behind her, when Nanao gave up trying to find the voice of her sword – even its name escaped her memory. Unohana had told her the title, after she had woken up in fourth, but it didn't matter anymore. Without her spirit energy, they were just empty words; she could hear them but never understand.

Slowly, she continued to making her way back to the Seireitei. She now understood what she had been looking for, and, having failed in her task, she needed to start making practical plans. She could no longer be Kyouraku-taichou's vice captain. It was strange, to think that only a few months ago, that was how she had wanted to spend the rest of her life: serving the soul society, always by his side. Now those days seemed like a fairy tale, and the happy ending was out of her grasp.

_You could still be happy; it just might not be what you wanted._

She thought of her taichou, his eyes wild as he held her close and told her how serious he was; the warmth within his arms, the sound of his deep voice, the smell of sakura and sake and something else she couldn't identify. Maybe something better was within her grasp now...

Nanao tried to banish those thoughts as soon as they started; she wasn't sure how serious he was, and while daydreaming about Kyouraku-taichou was nice, it was not particularly effective. She had practical concerns to think about. Like where she would live, now that the fukutaichou quarters were no longer hers.

_"I would like you to move in with me." _His warm voice sounded in her memory, ignoring her attempts to focus on other things, making her miss him all over again (curse that man and his persistence). He had invited her to stay with him. Did that offer still apply, if she were to show up now, without warning? Just as a place to stay, strictly speaking. No funny business – she could stay in his guest room, just until she got set up on her own.

_Or until she decided to stay with him as a couple._

No, she couldn't force herself on him like that, she wasn't even sure of his affection. Even if they decided to seriously try for a relationship, if – _when _– things didn't work out between them, that would only get messy. Rangiku would probably have space for her... All she really needed was a few feet of floor space to roll out her futon, it wasn't as though she had many personal possessions. A habit from her childhood, that. It had been over a century since she had left the slums, but she still kept few possessions, and was ready to move at a moment's notice.

_What she would leave behind in the eighth was not material._

A sudden screech some few hundred yards to her left brought Nanao back to the present. She ducked down, trying to hide in the tall grass, trying to pick out more sounds. There, another shriek... There was more than one enemy, probably fairly large, definitely moving towards her.

She poked her head over the grass, trying to judge the distance. Three hundred yards, maybe... How had such a large group of hollows penetrated this far into the Soul Society unnoticed?

AN/ I rediscovered the magic of ellipses in this chapter. Anyways, it's not as long, but I wanted to prove to myself that I could still update fairly quickly. Plus, once Breaking Dawn comes out, there might not be any more updates for **at least **a week, maybe more. I need to read new books at least twice to fully enjoy them. In a row, no breaks.

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed, especially WinterVines, who is generally awesome, and helped me out of the mess I made with Nanao's returning to Rukongai. (did anyone else notice that in previous chapters, I'd put her as coming from both 70th and 42nd? Headdesk...)

**Review, review, review**. The longer, the better... Make a suggestion, give me an idea, leave some constructive criticism, whatever makes you happy, because your reviews most always make me happy. They also make me want to write more. See the connection? Review!


	12. The upside of loosing everything

_A sudden screech some few hundred yards to her left brought Nanao back to the present. She ducked down, trying to hide in the tall grass, trying to pick out more sounds. There, another shriek... There was more than one enemy, probably fairly large, definitely moving towards her._

_She poked her head over the grass, trying to judge the distance. Three hundred yards, maybe... How had such a large group of hollows penetrated this far into the Soul Society unnoticed?_

_-_

_Three hundred yards._

They were closing the distance quickly, she didn't have much time. A dozen plans started forming in her head – which kidou to use (something with fire, to help draw attention?), how to approach the group (from the side, or head on?) which one to attack first (if she could take out the really small ones in one strike, she's have a better chance with the larger enemies). Twelfth would notice the hollows soon – they monitored the soul society more closely then Kyouraku-taichou did his sake stash – and the issue at hand was not getting help, but holding off the monsters until reinforcements arrived. If the hollows were given free reign, they could destroy several districts before a single shinigami showed up.

It would be a slaughter – most souls in Rukongai had at least some spiritual energy, but were either too weak or too mistrustful of the Gotei to become shinigami. They would make perfect targets, defenceless nourishment to strengthen the advancing shadows; and there was no mistaking that they would be utterly defenceless.

_A feast for the taking._

Terrain, wind, light – her brain was taking in all the details around her, cold and calculating. The incantations for her favourite kidou were on her lips as her hand reached up her sleeve, meeting – _nothing._

_Shit._

She didn't have her zanpakuto, she didn't have anything to fight with. Nevermind the possible civilian collateral in Rukongai, she was utterly exposed, vulnerable to any attack they might throw at her.

_Two hundred yards and closing._

They had already seen her, were already approaching. They were larger than the one she had encountered in Karakura – another peak over the grass showed at least two huge hollows and a menos, possible an adjuchas with them. Moving quickly.

_Shitshitshitshit..._

She had traveled all day across the wide, empty grasslands: there was plenty of space there, if she could somehow lead them away from Rukongai; anything to buy more time.

_Or steal it – I'm not too picky about how honestly this time is won, in fact._

She was tripping over her feet, trying to run as fast as she could back into the barren fields she had come from. Every second was another possible moment for the reinforcements to get here, another moment when the small invasion party _wasn't_ killing in Rukongai.

That was another problem, of course: reinforcements. She had no way of sensing whatever backup shinigami would be sent: no way of telling how far away they were, or from which direction they would come. She could be leading her attackers further and further from shinigami support with each step. This whole running thing was beginning to look less and less like a strategy, and more like a death march.

_One hundred yards – no, less._

This had to have been the stupidest plan she had ever had. Really – outrunning a bunch of hollows? It looked like she'd lost her mind right along with the spirit energy.

_Wait... She didn't have any spirit energy..._

Why were they following her? It was like a bully stalking a rock – they wouldn't get anything out of her death. She was too weak to even provide them with an entertaining kill, not that a group of enemies strong enough to break into Soul society this close to the Seireitei would waste time with games.

But here they were – breaking into Soul Society, just for the thrill of the hunt... The group was chasing after her, into the empty grasslands, completely ignoring the veritable banquet of Rukongai spirit energy. They were either far stupider then she'd given them credit for, or in possession of a plan much more cunning then she could grasp.

Not that their motives would make much of a difference to her once they caught up. Death by cunning design and death by the stupidity of one's opponents were fairly similar fates.

What was it she had done in Karakura? Slinking around the streets at night, hiding in shadows? Hollows relied on their senses, and their ability to sense reiatsu was one of their best weapons in this deadly game of cat-and-mouse. They would only be able to track her by sight, and sight was – at best – a sketchy sense to rely on for hollows. The thick masks often got in the way, blocking peripheral vision or necessary light. If she could get out of their direct line of sight, she might have a chance.

Nanao whipped her head around, her dark hair straining from its pins, as she tried to get a better look at the hollows.

_Sixty yards? Fifty? Or less? It was hard to tell in the fading light._

Nanao wasn't sure if it was part of her plan to stop and crouch low to the ground – truth be told, she might have tripped a little, running in the dark on an injured leg. So much for dignity and finesse... There was no time for any thought though, and she was away, wiggling through the grass as silently as she could, perpendicular to her original path.

That was another thing she had never forgotten from Rukongai: how to hide and run silently.

It was hard, though, to stay hidden in the grass and weeds as she heard them coming closer, and closer. The adrenaline made her tremble, and she rolled into a tight ball – she couldn't risk shaking now, not when the slightest movement might give away her position. It was a very different way to deal with hollows, and she couldn't help but reminiscing about previous battles. The weight of a sword and the heat of the kidou were cold comforts, but comforts nonetheless.

_Oh, how the mighty have fallen._

Closer, closer...Ten yards, then five, and then they were suddenly getting further away, moving past her, into the empty grasslands. The distraction wouldn't last long, eventually they would realize that there was nothing ahead of them – especially if an adjuchas was with them. But it was time, if only a few precious minutes of it.

-

The eighth had never been known for its haste – in fact, given the large percentage of members drunk or hung-over at any given time, they often took days to mobilize. It was no small miracle that Shunsui had managed to pull together a company of fifty troops in five minutes, especially without Nanao's organized leadership, but the fact was less surprising given the motivation. Regardless of her reputation as 'the ice queen', the division was rather fond of their (now ex-) vice-captain.

The look in Shunsui's eyes might have had something to do with it too.

It only took the group only twenty minutes to assemble, and make it through the passage between worlds – faster than could be expected of such a large bunch, but not fast enough to ease the anxious captain. His haori fluttered violently behind him, his hair flying in the wind, as the shinigami flooded out of the small tunnel from Karakura and into the vast fields that divided districts.

Under normal circumstances, the group would have stopped, awaiting further orders, but for once, their goal was clear. Ahead of them - close enough to be clearly visible but far enough away to cause panic – a group of shadowy figures seemed to be searching the tall grasses. They straightened, however, as the leader – an adjuchas, Shunsui could tell by the very human form – noted their arrival, and called his troops to action.

There was no sign of Nanao.

Shunsui let out a yell as he ripped his swords out of their sheaths, leading his subordinates in a furious dash to their opponents. Like a black wave, they crashed through the late summer grass, bringing fire and fury and death.

-

Nanao let out another curse as she saw – or heard, rather, as she was still very intent upon not moving – the reinforcements arrive. As predicted, she had been unable to sense the shinigami, and had ended up placing herself in the strategically worst position possible, right between the hollows and the soul reapers.

She really hoped the soul reapers passed her before the hollows did – any injuries she incurred from being trampled would probably be very minimal, compared to whatever fate awaited her from the hands of the hollows. Still, she remained rolled up in a very tight, quiet ball, trying her best to be small and out-of-the-way.

But luck was – again - not on her side, and the very polished white boots of the adjuchas crunched some purple flowers to the left of her. Attached to the shiny boot was a white clothed leg...Nanao's eyes traveled upwards – and upwards, and upwards, for the leering man was quite tall – as she relaxed out of the fetal position.

Staying still and quiet and small would not help her now.

The man was as slender, which, coupled with his stringy, straw-colored hair and abnormal height, made him seem rather scarecrow-like. His features seemed out of proportion – too long, too thin – as though he wasn't quite human. Which he wasn't, but it was strange for adjuchas to _look_ so poorly made. The large, circular, empty eyes and pointy, crooked nose was only furthered the scarecrow similarity, making him look more ill-formed – had this been one of Aizen's early creations? The large black "82" took up most of the left side of his face – she hadn't been worth sending one the espada. Was the 82nd adjuchas even strong enough to be a fraccion?

He loomed over her, still grinning creepily, and suddenly she understood why she was the target.

_They know. They know that he has my power. They know that he needs it._

_They know that my death will cripple one of the Gotei's most powerful captains if it doesn't kill him._

-

Shunsui had never run so fast in his life. The wind tugged at his hair and clothes, almost uncomfortably, and the colors bled into a sort of grey around him, as he sped across the fields. His division was falling further behind him, but he was beyond noticing.

His sole focus was the leader, the adjuchas clad in the white robes of Aizen's army; his subordinates would take care of the other hollows.

As Shunsui came closer, time slowed down. He could make out Nanao at the feet of the adjuchas, could see him put his foot on her neck: was he trying to strangle her?

_Please, please, don't let me be too late._ Shunsui prayed to every deity he could think of – and some he might have made up – as he came closer and closer. _I'll do anything, just don't let me be too late._

The tall leader raced his arm, and a ball of glowing light seemed to grow out of his palm.

_Not strangling her, holding her down._

"Cero." The light shot downwards, almost too fast for him to see, into Nanao – _his_ Nanao, his love, his responsibility; and how he had failed her.

With a scream, Shunsui leapt onto the stick-like figure in white, his blades whirling, whistling through the air in a deadly song of rage and revenge.

-

Nanao saw the looming figure above her gather his reiatsu into the flaming ball of power. She knew that, had she still been capable of such things, she would have felt the spiritual energy of the air around her change, as the cero pulled in the power around it. The ball was fairly big – larger than an apple, maybe the size of a small melon – when he released it.

It was beautiful, in a deadly way – like fire, but a pale sort of ivory, shimmering in the fading light. She watched it move gracefully through the air, and disappearing into her chest. She thought she heard shouts, and saw a flash of color, but everything outside herself faded.

She waited, for pain, for death – for _something_ – but nothing happened. Where was the darkness she remembered from her last death? Maybe, because she had gotten out the first time, she couldn't die again ... some sort of reject of the after world. That didn't make any sense though, there were plenty of people with near death experiences; not quite like hers, but still... There had to be something she was missing, because a cero that size at that range was beyond lethal: Zaraki Kenpachi would have died from a hit like that; she should be a pile of charred ash.

_Oh. _

She realized what had happened with a flash of clarity.

_I get it..._

Nanao was taken back, momentarily, to the pale hospital room – to the calming sound of Unohana's voice, and the warm feeling of Kyouraku-taichou's hand in hers; the relief of being alive, with him. At the time she'd been too occupied by the news of her condition to pay much attention to the details of the healer's explanation.

_"Pure reiatsu – as used in healing - is only effective because one's hakusui accepts the reiatsu and changes it into healing energy. The opposite can be said of combative reiatsu: the energy used in shields, or defensive and offensive kidou, is rejected by the opponent's hakusui, causing harm."_

Kidou was dangerous or helpful because of the way it reacted to one's hakusui. If the kidou was compatible to one's inner spiritual energy, it could heal. Destructive kidou would be rejected, and the resulting kidou explosion – for lack of better term – would manifest itself as physical injury. Some elemental kidou actually had physical properties as well as spiritual ones. Although a ball of kidou fire would be pure reiatsu itself, it would burn real air, real flesh – that could cause her some serious damage.

A cero was pure energy though...

She didn't have a hakusui to react to kidou. The cero might have been air, for all it affected her: spirit energy was not a physical thing; it would not affect her physically if she did not have the spiritual capacity to reject it.

"Nanao, Nanao I'm so sorry..." She was drawn out of her thoughts by the sound of Kyouraku-taichou's voice – he sounded lost, distraught. He knelt beside her, taking her hand in his own larger and warmer one, cupping it to his face. His eyes were closed; his hair fell limply around his shoulders, having escaped from the usual ponytail. Katen Kyoukotsu lay forgotten at his side, the twin blades dripping with fresh blood. "My Nanao-chan..."

All around them, she recognized members of the division making short work of the remaining hollows.

"Taichou, it's okay. I'm alright, I'm fine." And she was, she felt whole for the first time in days – she hadn't realized how much she had missed him. At her words, Kyouraku-taichou seemed to freeze, his brown eyes growing wide. After a minute of two, he swept her into a bone-crushing hug.

"You're alive." She had never heard him sound so relieved. "Nanao, you're alive... I thought..." His voice broke, and she drew back, realizing that he had thought she was dead – she should have been dead. His eyes seemed wet, but he was smiling, his face full of joy – he was truly happy to have her with him.

_He loved her as much as she did him._

Her heart seemed to stutter as she realized this truth, and she was suddenly very conscious of how close he was...

"Unohana already said it, Kyouraku-taichou. I don't have a hakusui – healing reiatsu won't work on me, nor will any other type of kidou, or spiritual energy."

"So you're okay? You're sure you're okay?"

His wide eyes still held concern, but it was that of his usual over-protective nature. Much more prominent was the relief and love that shone clearly from the rich brown depths.

Nanao reached out, hugging him back, holding on tightly, feeling his warmth surround her. Somewhere behind her, one of the members of their division whistled.

"I'm fantastic."

**AN/** And she was. Awwwww...Anyway, just one chapter left, it's the epilogue-y thing. I have some ideas, but any loose ends in particular you want me to address?

Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed – I really, really, really love reading your reviews. Really. A lot. And for once, they made me feel guilty enough to get writing, which is why this update is pretty quick. It could have been quicker, but it would have ended with Nanao getting cero'ed – see, sometimes my slow updates are a blessing: I update slowly because I love you! That being said, I'll try to roll out the last chapter fairly soon. No promises though.

REVIEW! Please, review! Like I said, suggestions for the next chapter, maybe any future fics you want me to think about, what I did right this chapter, what I really screwed up this chapter (did anyone understand that reiatsu thing, or was I just making crazy talk?). Or you can just say how much you love me ;)

EDIT: Oh, btw, I don't know if we've seen the 82nd adjuchas in the series. If we have, pretend mine was a different number... 82 was chosen at random, and I am way too lazy to look into it.


	13. To smile to see you smile

The vast majority of the fourth division had relocated to Karakura for the predicted battle, but one of the few remaining healers was found to check on Nanao after Kyouraku-taichou had carried her into the Seireitei. All appearances aside, she _had_ just taken a direct hit from a moderately powerful cero blast. Although he was worried enough to insist on a once-over from the officer on duty at Fourth, Kyouraku-taichou knew that she was fine – only a very strong confidence in her health would have persuaded him to leave her momentarily to make his report to the soutaichou. That was where he was now, while she sat on one of the beds in Fourth, waiting for the birdlike eleventh seat to return with the test results.

_Her captain..._

It was probably time to give up that title. She was no longer in his division, and their relationship was clearly moving beyond that of a subordinate and superior – or rather, she was finally willing to admit that it was. After their reunion on the barren fields of Rukongai, they had not had time to speak. Orders had been given, the wounded had been treated as best as they could on the field – fortunately, all injuries had been fairly minor – and the company had hurried on to the Gotei headquarters. Nanao, the only one who could not use shunpo, had allowed herself to be carried away from the field, (just this once, of course) by Kyouraku-san. For the sake of efficiency.

_Kyouraku-san..._

The words sounded strange on her tongue, unfamiliar. They had known each other for a century, but she had never thought of him – never allowed herself to think of him – as anything but her captain. It would be strange to change their relationship so much now; but if it worked out it would all be worth it.

_If it doesn't work out..._

She was very grateful to the man in question for distracting her from that train of thought as he swept into the room, grinning broadly and swirling his haori dramatically behind him. The plain white room seemed so much brighter with him there, as though he could bring life to the world around him just by his very presence.

_She had always loved that about him._

"Ah, my lovely Nanao-chan! Fujitaka-san said that you're healthy, so I can take you out for lunch!"

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, but the impulse was too great: vice-captain or not, old habits die hard.

"Sir, Aizen's forces could attack at any time. We need to be on constant alert, ready to-" he hadn't wasted any time; the second she had started to nag, he had moved his face closer to hers, staring at her, his eyes huge and warm, but still sad.

Those puppy eyes could get him anything, and he knew it; at least, she hoped that was what he was going for. Love or not, she didn't think her pride would survive him knowing what his closeness did to her – to start, her entire lecture had been forgotten.

"Just a quick lunch then – but we can't leave the Gotei! And I can walk just fine, put me down!"

-

The cherry trees in spring were a flurry of pink and new life, but Nanao loved them in autumn too. The small flowers were stained with reds and oranges, foliage becoming crisp with the coming winter. It was near the end of September now, and the first of the browning leaves created a crunchy carpet on which Kyouraku-san (she would never get used to calling him that) spread his haori, before flopping down dramatically and beckoning for her to join him.

"Don't you want something to eat, my lovely Nanao-chan? Look, I brought the ones with mayonnaise and turkey, just for you!" And true to form, he had mysteriously pulled a large wicker picnic basket from somewhere behind his back, followed closely by a large jug of sake, which he wasted no time in opening with an impish smile.

She sighed, but joined him, cross-legged, on their personal island of silk amongst the sea of leaves – she did love those sandwiches. It was unnerving to realise how closely he had been watching her for the past several decades; what more did he know about her?

_What didn't she know about him?_

"What did Yamamoto-taichou say?"

"Ah, Nanao-chan, straight to business as always – you should relax more, or you'll turn out like that old geezer himself... Anyways, he understands that those hollows attacked you to get to me-" his voice paused, for less than a second, but she could read the guilt in his eyes; she had been watching him for a while now too. It was very like her captain to blame himself for her own stupidity – and it had been stupidity, wandering defenceless in the Rukongai in the middle of a war. "So you'll stay in the Seireitei, where we can protect you."

His eyes said what his voice didn't: _where _I_ can protect you._

"So I'm supposed to sit here, doing nothing, and let others fight for me?" She was proud of the ice in her voice: it didn't show the traitorous emotion welling up inside of her – the feeling of weakness, of incompetence.

And she was incompetent, of that there could be no mistake.

"Nanao-chan, I'm so sorry. But it's the only way to keep you safe..." His eyes were filled with sadness, but his voice was firm: curse him and his overprotectiveness! Was she supposed to just sit around? Do some filing while her division fought? While they died?

_Please, please don't let him die..._

Nanao felt her anger fade away, replaced by a deep sense of helplessness. It had been a long time since she had been so powerless to protect the people she cared about, since she had been so _weak._

_Overprotectiveness isn't even a word..._

The rational side of Nanao's brain slowly regained control. From a strategic standpoint, there really was no other place for her. She had lost her power, but she was still only beginning to see how that would affect her future. It wasn't just spiritual energy she was lacking in now; it was strength, competence. The only spot remaining for her was one in a gilded cage, supporting the Gotei from the sides so that they could keep a close eye on her.

She looked up, meeting his eyes. He had been watching her for years, and the understanding in his gaze came as no surprise to Nanao. True to form, he started speaking, his voice steady and warm, but without the usual teasing – he always knew what to say, and she hadn't realized before now how much she had come to depend on that.

"When I was in the academy, I was injured while sparring with a classmate. The sword wound became infected: if Retsu-chan had not discovered her shikai then, I probably would have died; as it was, I was in the Fourth for two months. At any other time, I would have been grateful for my life, but those during those several weeks, Soul Society was being attacked by one of the outcaste, a fallen noble leading a hoard of hollows much like Aizen's army. The Outcaste, as he is known now, was the second great megalomaniac of our time, the last one since Aizen – indeed, he inspired many of Aizen's current tactics.

"To watch my classmates go into battle was very hard, but not nearly as much as watching so few of them return; not as difficult as meeting the eyes of the survivors." He shivered slightly, and a shadow passed behind his eyes at some memory – Nanao knew him well enough to see that he was editing his story for her; knew herself well enough to be grateful for it.

_She hated seeing him in pain._

" There aren't many people who understand what Yamaji is asking of you Nanao, but I do. I understand, and I'm asking you anyways... For me, Nanao; promise you'll let me protect you this time, for me..."

He was looking at her now, using those accursed eyes, and Nanao already knew that she would give in.

_She knew that she would do anything, to see him smile again; a genuine, carefree smile, without the weight of worry that always seemed to lurk behind his eyes now._

But she was Nanao, and it took her another minute or two to swallow her pride and nod briskly, trying to keep her composure.

"I'll stay here then."

"And after, once this is over?"

He knew what she wanted, but he needed to hear it.

_He knew she needed to hear herself say it._

"And after the war is over, I'll stay with you."

_There was that smile she had been looking for..._

--

Nanao blinked, her eyes protesting against the sudden light – she hated waking up in strange places. But she was comfortable: she could feel warmth all around her, which meant she was in _his_ arms. And the comforting feel of a mattress beneath her...

_Wait, what?_

She bolted upright in the bed, startling a laugh from her tall captain: her tall, gloriously good-looking captain, who was still in his uniform. A quick glance revealed that she was not only dressed, but had somehow gained clothing: the infamous pink haori draped over shoulders.

_The pink haori – I can see it now._

The last time she had seen pink had been in the fourth division, after he had told her that he loved her... She had given her pink to him, to his soul; that they could share this sort of made sense, in the same way that only he could make her feel warm. When you loved somebody, you were giving a piece of yourself to them, trusting them not to break you.

_She really and truly had his heart; just as he had hers._

It wouldn't have worked with spirit power, which more tangible – an organ, Unohana-taichou had called it. This was about souls, and love: what couldn't be seen or felt, but was exchanged nonetheless.

That was a little corny for her tastes, but it wasn't like she'd be admitting this paradigm shift to anyone soon.

"Did my Nanao-chan think I would take advantage of her?" His voice – laughing and seductive at the same time – brought her out of her thoughts, back to the present: back to the bed she had shared with him for the night. His arms were around her again, pulling her close to him, his eyes bright and mischevious. It didn't surprise her that the man liked cuddling; it surprised her that she did.

"Maybe I wanted you to take advantage of me."

She snuggled closer to him, smiling as she felt his lips ghosting over her ear.

"I love you, Nanao."

"I love you too, Shunsui."

The words felt right on her tongue, like they completed her, like they belonged together; like his hands on her skin, like his voice in her ear, like his lips on hers...

-

AN: I beg for your mercy and forgiveness in how long this has taken. It was supposed to be finished before I went to university, and then I got caught up here (did you know engineers are crazy? Apparently, we're all nuts, especially at my school) and then midterms came around (actually, they still aren't done – no rest for the weary), and I'm really sorry! I hope it was worth the wait, but it was really hard to write – there was no suspense to really drive it, you know? I'm still not sure I'm satisfied – this is actually the third draft. Are you guys happy with it? Once again, I am so, so, so, so sorry. I beg a thousand pardons and offer a thousand thanks to everyone who has been with me throughout this journey.


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